"Mr. Cavendish," interposed Mr. Rodman, "I believe you are not a member of the Belfast Yacht Club."

"I am not yet, but I intend to join," replied Laud.

"In the mean time, this occasion is for the members of the club and their friends; and I wish to suggest the propriety of your withdrawing, as I believe you are here without an invitation," added Mr. Rodman.

"I came with Don John," said Laud, rather startled by the plain speech of the host.

"If Don John invited you—"

"I didn't invite him, or any one else. I did not consider that I had any right to do so," protested Donald, as he walked forward and joined Nellie.

Laud could not gainsay this honest avowal; but there was no limit to his wrath at that moment, and he determined to punish the boat-builder for "going back" on him, as he regarded it.

The collation was a sumptuous one, for when Belfast nabobs do anything, they do it. The guests had good appetites, and did abundant justice to the feast. The incident of which Laud Cavendish had been the central figure caused some talk and some laughter.

"He had the impudence to say he was going to name his boat after me," said Nellie Patterdale. "He don't like the name of Juno."

"Does he own the Juno?" asked Captain Patterdale, quietly.

"I suppose he does."

"How is that, Don John?" added the captain.

"Yes, sir, he owns her; Captain Shivernock got tired of the Juno, and Laud bought her."

Captain Patterdale made a note of that piece of information, and regarded it as a clew to assist in the discovery of the tin box, which had not yet been found, though the owner and the deputy sheriff had been looking diligently for it ever since its disappearance.

"What did he pay for her?" inquired Captain Patterdale.

"Three hundred and fifty dollars," answered Donald, who hoped he would not be asked of whom Laud had bought the Juno.

The captain did not ask the question, for it seemed to be self-evident that he had purchased her of Captain Shivernock. Indeed, nothing more was said about the matter. A dance on the shaven lawn followed the collation, and the guests remained until the dews of evening began to fall. Donald walked home with Nellie, and then went to the shop. He expected to find Hasbrook there, but he had returned to Lincolnville. He saw that the sails for the Maud had been sent down during his absence, and on the desk lay the bill for them, enclosed in an envelope, directed to "Messrs. Ramsay & Son." While he was looking at it, Mr. Leach, the sail-maker, entered the shop. He had come to look after his money, for possibly he had not entire confidence in the financial stability of the firm.

"Have you looked over those sails, Don John?" asked Leach.

"Not yet; it is rather too dark to examine them to-night," replied Donald.

"That's the best suit of sails I ever made," added the sail-maker. "You said you wanted the best that could be had."

"I did." And Donald unrolled them. "They look like a good job."

"If they are not as good as anything that ever went on a boat, I'll make you another suit for nothing. I was in hopes you would look them over to-night. I don't want to trouble you, Don John, but I'm a little short of money. Captain Patterdale has a mortgage on my house, and I like to pay the interest on it the day it is due. You said you would let me have the money when the sails were delivered."

"And so I will."

"If they are not all right, I will make them so," added Leach. "I should like to pay the captain my interest money to-night, if I can."

"You can. I will go into the house and get the money."

Donald went to his room in the cottage, and took from their hiding-place the bills which had been paid to him by Laud Cavendish for the Juno. Without this he had not enough to pay the sail-maker. He did not like to use this money, for he was not fully satisfied that Laud would not get into trouble on account of it, or that he might not himself have some difficulty with Captain Shivernock. He feared that he should be called upon to refund this money; but Mr. Rodman would pay him another instalment of the price of the Maud in a few days, and he should then be in condition to meet any demand upon him. Laud had paid him seven fifty-dollar bills, and he put them in his pocket. As he passed through the kitchen, he lighted the lantern, and returned to the shop.

"I didn't mean to dun you up so sharp for this bill," said Leach; "but I haven't a dollar in my pocket at this minute, and I am very anxious to be punctual in the payment of my interest."

"It's all right; I had as lief pay it now as at any other time. In fact, I like to pay up as soon as the work is done," replied Donald, as he handed the sail-maker three of the fifty-dollar bills, which was the price agreed upon for the sails, five in number.

Leach looked carefully at each of the bills. All of them were quite new and fresh, and one was peculiar enough to attract the attention of any one through whose hands it might pass. It was just like the others, but at some period, not very remote in its history, it had been torn into four parts. It might have been in a sheet of note paper, torn up by some one who did not know the bill was between the leaves. It had been mended with two narrow slips of thin, white paper, extending across the length and width of the bill, like the horizontal white cross on the flag of Denmark.

"That bill has been in four pieces," said Leach, as he turned it over and examined it; "but I suppose it is good."

"If it is not, I will give you another for it," answered Donald.

"It is all here; so I think it is all right. I wonder who tore it up."

"I don't know; it was so when I took it."

"I am very much obliged to you, Don John; and the next time I make a suit of sails for you, you needn't pay me till you get ready," said the sail-maker, as he put the money in his wallet.

"I didn't pay for this suit till I got ready," laughed the boat-builder; "and when you get up another, I hope I shall be able to pay you the cash for them."

Leach left the shop a happy man; for most men are cheerful when they have plenty of money in their pocket. He was more especially happy because, being an honest man, he was able now to pay the interest on the mortgage note on the day it was due. He had worked half the night before in order to finish the sails, so that he might get the money to pay it. With a light step, therefore, he walked to the elegant mansion of Captain Patterdale, and rang the bell at the library door. There was a light in the room, which indicated that the captain was at home. He was admitted by the nabob himself, who answered his own bell at this door.

"I suppose you thought I wasn't going to pay my interest on the day it was due," said Leach, with a cheerful smile.



"On the contrary, I didn't think anything at all about it," replied Captain Patterdale. "I was not even aware that your interest was due to-day."

"I came pretty near not paying it, for work has been rather slack this season; but the firm of Ramsay & Son helped me out by paying me promptly for the sails I made for the Maud."

"Ramsay & Son is a great concern," laughed the nabob.

"It pays promptly; and that's more than all of them do," added Leach, drawing his wallet from his pocket.

"I haven't your note by me, Mr. Leach," said Captain Patterdale; but he did not consider it necessary to state that the important document was at that moment in the tin box, wherever the said tin box might be. "I will give you a receipt for the amount you pay, and indorse it upon the note when I have it."

"All right, captain."

"Do you know how much the interest is? I am sure I have forgotten," added the rich man.

"I ought to know. I have had to work too hard to get the money in time to forget how much it was. It is just seventy dollars," answered Leach.

"You needn't pay it now, if you are short."

"I'm not short now. I'm flush, for which I thank Don John," said the sail-maker, as he placed two of the fifty-dollar bills on the desk, at which the captain was writing the receipt.

The uppermost of the two bills was the mended one, for Leach thought if there was any doubt in regard to this, it ought to be known at once. If the nabob would take it, the matter was settled. Captain Patterdale wrote the receipt, and did not at once glance at the money.

"There's a hundred, captain," added the sail-maker.

The rich man picked up the bills, and turned over the upper one. If he did not start, it was not because he was not surprised. He was utterly confounded when he saw that bill, and his thoughts flashed quickly through his mind. But he did not betray his thoughts or his emotions, quick as were the former, and intense as were the latter. He took up the mended bill, and looked it over several times.

"That's the white cross of Denmark," said he, suppressing his emotions.

"Isn't the bill good?" asked the sail-maker.

"Good as gold for eighty-eight cents on a dollar," replied the captain.

"Then it is not good," added Leach, who did not quite comprehend the nabob's mathematics.

"Yes, it is."

"But you say it is worth only eighty-eight cents on a dollar."

"That is all any paper dollar is worth when gold is a little rising fourteen per cent. premium. The bill is perfectly good, in spite of the white cross upon it. You want thirty dollars change."

The captain counted out this sum, and handed it to the debtor.

"If the bill isn't good, I can give you another," replied Leach, as he took the money.

"It is a good bill, and I prefer it to any other for certain reasons of my own. It has the white cross of Denmark upon it; at least, the white bars on this bill remind me of the flag of that nation."

"It's like a flag—is it?" added the sail-maker, who did not understand the rich man's allusion.

"Like the flag of Denmark. I made a voyage to Copenhagen once, and this bill reminds me of the merchant's flag, which has a couple of white bars across a red ground. Where did you say you got this bill, Mr. Leach?"

"Don John gave it to me, not half an hour ago."

"It has been torn into quarters some time, and the pieces put together again. Did Don John mend the bill himself?"

"No, sir; he says the bill is just as it was when he received it. I looked at it pretty sharp when I took it; but he said if it wasn't good, he would give me another."

"It is perfectly good. Did he tell you where he got the bill?" asked Captain Patterdale, manifesting none of the emotion which agitated him.

"No, sir; he did not. I didn't ask him. If it makes any difference, I will do so."

"It makes no difference whatever. It is all right, Mr. Leach."

The sail-maker folded up his receipt, and left the library. He went home with eighty dollars in his pocket, entirely satisfied with himself, with the nabob, and especially with the firm of Ramsay & Son. He did not care a straw about the white cross of Denmark, so long as the bill was good. Captain Patterdale was deeply interested in the bill which bore this mark, and possibly he expected to conquer by this sign. He was not so much interested in the bill because he had made a voyage up the Baltic and seen the white cross there, as because he had seen it on a bill in that tin box. He was not only interested, but he was anxious, for the active member of the firm of Ramsay & Son seemed to be implicated in a very unfortunate and criminal transaction.

More than once Captain Patterdale had observed the pleasant relations between Don John and his fair daughter. As Nellie was a very pretty girl, intelligent, well educated, and agreeable, and in due time would be the heiress of a quarter or a half million, as the case might be, he was rather particular in regard to the friendships she contracted with the young gentlemen of the city. Possibly he did not approve the intimacy between them. But whatever opinions he may have entertained in regard to the equality of social relations between his daughter and the future partner of her joys and sorrows, we must do him the justice to say that he preferred honor and honesty to wealth and position in the gentleman whom Nellie might choose for her life companion. The suspicion, or rather the conviction, forced upon him by "the white cross of Denmark," that Donald was neither honest nor honorable, was vastly more painful than the fact that he was poor, and was the son of a mere ship carpenter.

Certainly Nellie did like the young man, though, as she was hardly more than a child, it might be a fancy that would pass away when she realized the difference between the daughter of a nabob and the son of a ship carpenter. While he was thinking of the subject, Nellie entered the library, as she generally did when her father was alone there. She was his only confidant in the house in the matter of the tin box, and he determined to talk with her about the painful discovery he had just made.



CHAPTER XII.

DONALD ANSWERS QUESTIONS.

"Well, Nellie, did you have a good time to-day?" asked Captain Patterdale, as his daughter seated herself near his desk.

"I did; a capital time. Everybody seemed to enjoy it," replied she.

"But some seemed to enjoy it more than others," added the captain, with a smile.

"Now, father, you have something to say," said she, with a blush. "I wish you would say it right out, and not torment me for half an hour, trying to guess what it is."

"Of course, if I hadn't anything to say, I should hold my tongue," laughed her father.

"Everybody don't."

"But I do."

"Do you think I enjoyed the occasion more than any one else, father?"

"I thought you were one of the few who enjoyed it most."

"Perhaps I was; but what have I done?"

"Done?"

"What terrible sin have I committed now?"

"None, my child."

"But you are going to tell me that I have sinned against the letter of the law of propriety, or something of that kind. This is the way you always begin."

"Then this time is an exception to all other times, for I haven't a word of fault to find with you."

"I am so glad! I was trying to think what wicked thing I had been doing."

"Nothing, child. Don John seemed to be supremely happy this afternoon."

"I dare say he was; but the firm of Ramsay & Son had a successful launch, and Don John had compliments enough to turn the head of any one with a particle of vanity in his composition."

"No doubt of it; and I suppose you were not behind the others in adding fuel to the flame."

"What flame, father?"

"The flame of vanity."

"On the contrary, I don't think I uttered a single compliment to him."

"It was hardly necessary to utter it; but if you had danced with him only half as often, it would have flattered his vanity less."

"How could I help it, when he asked me? There were more gentlemen than ladies present, and I did not like to break up the sets," protested Nellie.

"Of course not; but being the lion of the occasion, don't you think he might have divided himself up a little more equitably?"

"I don't know; but I couldn't choose my own partner," replied Nellie, her cheeks glowing.

"You like Don John very well?"

"I certainly do, father," replied she, honestly. "Don't you?"

"Perhaps it don't make so much difference whether I like him or not."

"You have praised him to the skies, father. You said he was a very smart boy; and not one in a hundred young fellows takes hold of business with so much energy and good judgment. I am sure, if you had not said so much in his favor, I shouldn't have thought half so much of him," argued Nellie.

"I don't blame you for thinking well of him, my child," interposed her father. "I only hope you are not becoming too much interested in him."

"I only like him as a good-hearted, noble fellow," added Nellie, with a deeper blush than before, for she could not help understanding just what her father meant.

"He appears to be a very good-hearted fellow now; but he is young, and has not yet fully developed his character. He may yet turn out to be a worthless fellow, dissolute and dishonest," continued the captain.

"Don John!" exclaimed Nellie, utterly unwilling to accept such a supposition.

"Even Don John. I can recall more than one young man, who promised as well as he does, that turned out very badly; and men fully developed in character, sustaining the highest reputations in the community, have been detected in the grossest frauds. I trust Don John will realize the hopes of his friends; but we must not be too positive."

"I can't believe that Don John will ever become a bad man," protested Nellie.

"We don't know. 'Put not your trust in princes,' in our day and nation, might read, 'Put not your trust in young men.'"

"Why do you say all this, father?" asked Nellie, anxiously. "Has Don John done anything wrong; or is he suspected of doing anything wrong?"

"He is at least suspected," replied Captain Patterdale.

"Why, father!"

"You need not be in haste to condemn him, or even to think ill of him, Nellie."

"I certainly shall not."

"There is the white cross of Denmark," added the captain, holding up the bank bill which had told him such a terrible story about the boat-builder.

"What is it, father? It looks like a bank note."

"It is; but there is the white cross of Denmark on it."

"I don't understand what you mean."

"I only mean that these white slips of paper make the bill look like the flag of Denmark."

Nellie took the bill and examined it.

"It has been torn into four pieces and mended," said she.

"That is precisely how it happens to be the white cross of Denmark. Do you think, if you had ever seen that bill before, you would recognize it again, if it fell into your hands?" added the captain.

"Certainly I should."

"Well, it has been in my hands before. Do you remember the day that Michael had the sun-stroke?"

"Yes, sir; and your tin box disappeared that day."

"Precisely so; and this bill was in that tin box. Jacob Hasbrook, of Lincolnville, paid me a note. I put the money in the box, intending to take it over to the bank before night, and deposit it the next day. I looked at the bill when I counted the money, and I spoke to Hasbrook about it. I called it the white cross of Denmark then."

"Where did you get it now?" inquired Nellie, her heart in her throat with anxiety.

"Mr. Leach, the sail-maker, paid it to me just before you came into the library."

"Mr. Leach!" exclaimed she, permitting herself to be cheered by a ray of hope that her father was not working up a case against Donald Ramsay.

"Yes; you remember who were in the library on the day I lost the tin box."

"I remember very well; for all of you went out and carried Michael into the house. Besides we talked about the box ever so long. You asked me who had been in the library while you were up stairs; and I told you Mr. Hasbrook, Laud Cavendish, and Don John."

"Precisely so; I remember it all very distinctly. Now, one of the bills that was in that box comes back to me."

"But it was paid to you by Mr. Leach."

"It was; but he had it from Don John half an hour before he paid it to me."

"Why, father!" exclaimed Nellie, with real anguish; for even a suspicion against Donald was a shock to her. "I can never believe it!"

"I don't wish you to believe anything yet; but you may as well be prepared for anything an investigation may disclose."

"That Don John should steal!" ejaculated Nellie. "Why, we all considered him the very soul of honor!"

"You are getting along faster than I do with your conclusions, child," added Captain Patterdale. "A suspicion is not proof. The bill came from him, beyond a doubt. But something can be said in his favor, besides the statement that his character is excellent. Of the three persons who were in the library that day, two of them had wagons on the street. It does not seem probable that Don John walked through the city with that tin box in his hand. If he did, some one must have seen it. Of course he would not have carried it openly, while it could easily have been concealed in the wagon of Hasbrook or Laud Cavendish."

"Certainly; if Don John had taken it, he would not have dared to carry it through the streets," added Nellie, comforted by the suggestion.

"Again, if he had stolen this white cross of Denmark, he would not have been likely to pass it off here in Belfast," continued the captain; "for he is sharp enough to see that it would be identified as soon as it appeared. Very likely Mr. Leach told him he intended to pay me some money, and he surely would not have allowed the bill to come back to me."

"I know he didn't do it," cried Nellie, with enthusiasm.

"You are too fast again, child. It is possible that he did, however improbable it may seem now, for rogues often make very silly blunders. Is Edward in the house?"

"I think so; he was reading the Age when I came in."

"Tell him to go down and ask Don John to come up and see me. We will have the matter cleared up before we sleep. But, Nellie, don't tell Edward what I want to see Don John for. Not a word about that to any one. By keeping my own counsel, I may get at the whole truth; whereas the thief, if he gets wind of what I am doing, may cover his tracks or run away."

"I will be very discreet, father," replied Nellie, as she left the library.

In a few moments she returned.

"He has gone, father; though he is very tired," said she.

"I suppose he is; but I don't want to believe that Don John is a thief even over one night," replied the captain.

"He asked me what you wanted of Don John; but I didn't tell him."

The father and daughter discussed the painful suspicion until Donald arrived, and entered the library with Edward. A conversation on indifferent topics was continued for some time, and the boat-builder wondered if he had been sent for to talk about the launch of the Maud, which was now an old story.

"How is the wind, Edward?" asked Captain Patterdale.

"'Sou'-sou'-west, half west," laughed Edward, who understood precisely what his father meant by his question; and bidding Donald good night, he left the library, without the formality of saying he would go and see which way the wind was.

"You know which way the wind is, Nellie; and so you need not leave," added the captain, as she rose from her seat to follow the example of her brother.

"So did Ned, for he told you," she answered.

"And you heard him, and know also."

When Captain Patterdale had private business with a visitor, and he wished any member of his own family to retire, he always asked which way the wind was.

"Don John, you had a great success in the launch of the Maud to-day," said the nabob; but as the same thing had been said half a dozen times before since the boat-builder entered the room, it was hardly to be regarded as an original idea; and Donald was satisfied that the launch was not the business upon which he had been sent for.

"Yes, sir; we got her off very well," he replied. "I was sorry I couldn't launch her with the mast stepped, so as to dress her in the colors."

"In that case, you would have needed the flags of all nations. I have them, and will lend them to you any time when you wish to make a sensation."

"Thank you, sir."

"I have here the white cross of Denmark," added the captain, holding up the mended bill.

"A fifty-dollar white-cross," laughed Donald. "I have seen it before."

"This bill?"

"Yes, sir; I paid it to Mr. Leach for the Maud's sails since dark," answered Donald, so squarely that the nabob could not help looking at his daughter and smiling.

"He said you paid promptly, which is a solid virtue in a business man. By the way, Don John, you will be out of work as soon as the Maud is finished."

"I hope to have another yacht to build by that time, especially if the Maud does well."

"I wanted to say a word to you about that, and tell you some good news, Don John," continued Captain Patterdale, as calmly as though he had no interest whatever in the mended bill. "I had a long talk with Mr. Norwood this afternoon. He says he shall give you the job if the Maud sails as well as the Skylark or the Sea Foam. He don't insist that she shall beat them."

"But I expect she will do it; if she don't I shall be disappointed," added Donald.

"Don't expect too much, Don John. I thought you would sleep better if you knew just how Mr. Norwood stood on this question."

"I shall, sir; and I am very much obliged to you."

"Do you think you will make any money on the building of the Maud?" asked the nabob.

"Yes, sir. I think I shall do pretty well with her."

"You seem to have money enough to pay your bills as you go along. Did Mr. Rodman pay you this bill?" inquired the captain, as he held up the cross again.

"No, sir; he did not. I have had that bill in the house for some time," replied Donald.

"Are you so flush as that?"

"Yes, sir; I had considerable cash in the house."

"Your father left something, I suppose."

"Yes, sir; but he never had that bill and the other two I paid Mr. Leach," replied Donald; and he could not help thinking all the time that they were a part of the sum Laud Cavendish had paid him for the Juno, under promise not to say where he got it, if everything was all right.

Though the boat-builder was a square young man, he could not help being somewhat embarrassed, for his sense of honor did not permit him to violate the confidence of any one.

"If it is a fair question, Don John, where did you get this bill?" asked the captain.

Donald thought it was hardly a fair question under the circumstances, and he made no answer, for he was thinking how he could get along without a lie, and still say nothing about Laud's connection with the bill, for that would expose Captain Shivernock.

"You don't answer me, Don John," added the nabob, mildly.

"I don't like to tell," replied Donald.

"Why not?"

"I promised not to do so."

"You promised not to tell where you got this money?"

Poor Nellie was almost overwhelmed by these answers on the part of Donald, and her father began to have some painful doubts.

"I did, sir; that is, I promised not to tell if everything about the money was all right."

"If you don't tell where you got the money, how are you to know whether everything is all right or not?" demanded Captain Patterdale, in sharper tones than he had yet used.

"Well, I don't know," answered the boat-builder, not a little confused, and sadly troubled by the anxious expression on Miss Nellie's pretty face.

Perhaps her father, who understood human nature exceedingly well, had required her to remain in the library during this interview, for a purpose; but whether he did or not, Donald was really more concerned about her good opinion than he was about that of any other person in the world, unless it was his mother. He was conscious that he was not making a good appearance; and under the sad gaze of those pretty eyes, he was determined to redeem himself.

"You ought not to make such promises, Don John," said the captain; and this time he spoke quite sternly.

"You have that bill, sir. Is there anything wrong about it?" asked Donald.

"Yes."

"Then my promise covers nothing. Laud Cavendish paid me that bill," added the boat-builder.

"Laud Cavendish!" exclaimed Nellie.

Her father shook his head, to intimate that she was to say nothing.

"Laud Cavendish gave you this bill?" repeated the captain.

"Yes, sir, and six more just like it; only the others were not mended. I paid Mr. Leach three of them, and here are the other four," said Donald, producing his wallet, and taking from it the four bills, which he had not returned to their hiding-place in the bureau.

Captain Patterdale examined them, and compared them with the two in his possession. They looked like the bills he had deposited in the tin box, when Hasbrook paid him the thirteen hundred and fifty dollars and interest. Twelve of the bills which made up this sum were fifties, nearly new; the balance was in hundreds, and smaller notes, older, more discolored, and worn.

"Laud Cavendish paid you three hundred and fifty dollars, then?" continued the nabob.

"Yes, sir; just that. But what is there wrong about it?" asked Donald, trembling with emotion, when he realized what a scrape he had got into.

"Following your example, Don John, I shall for the present decline to answer," replied the captain. "If you don't know—"

"I don't!" protested Donald, earnestly.

"If you don't know, I thank God; and I congratulate you that you don't know."

"I haven't the least idea."

"Of course, if you don't wish to answer any question I may ask, you can decline to answer, as I do, Don John."

"I am entirely willing to answer any and every question that concerns me."

"As you please; but you can't be called upon to say anything that will criminate yourself."

"Criminate myself, sir!" exclaimed Donald, aghast. "I haven't done anything wrong."

"I don't say that you have, Don John; more than that, I don't believe you have; but if you answer any question of mine, you must do it of your own free will and accord."

"I will, sir."

"For what did Laud Cavendish pay you three hundred and fifty dollars?"

"For the Juno," replied Donald, promptly.

"I did not know he owned the Juno."

"He said he did to-day; at least, he said he was going to change her name," added Nellie.

"The fact that I did not know it doesn't prove that it was not so. You sold the Juno to Laud, did you, Don John?"

"I did, sir."

"Did you own the Juno?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did you buy her of Captain Shivernock?"

"No, sir; I did not buy her; he made me a present of her."

"A present!"

"Yes, sir; he got disgusted with her, and gave her to me. I could not afford to keep her, and sold her to Laud Cavendish."

"Gave her to you! That's very strange."

"But Captain Shivernock is a very strange man."

"None will dispute that," replied Captain Patterdale, with a smile and a shrug of the shoulders. "That man throws away his property with utter recklessness; and I should not be surprised if he ended his life in the almshouse. I will not ask any explanation of the conduct of Captain Shivernock. Laud Cavendish is not a man of means. Did he tell you, Donald, where he got his money to buy a boat worth three hundred and fifty dollars?"

"He did, sir, and explained the matter so that I was satisfied; for I would not sell him the Juno till he convinced me that there was no hitch about the money."

"Well, where did he get it?"

"I don't feel at liberty to tell, sir; for he told me it was a great secret, which did not affect him, but another person. I inquired into the matter myself, and was satisfied it was all right."

"I am afraid you have been deceived, Don John; but I am convinced you have done no wrong yourself—at least, not intentionally. Secrets are dangerous; and when people wish you to conceal anything, you may generally be sure there is something wrong somewhere, though it may look all right to you. I have no more questions to ask to-night, Don John; but I may wish to see you again in regard to this subject. I must see Mr. Laud Cavendish next."



Donald declared that he was ready to give all the information in his power; and after a little chat with Nellie, he went home, with more on his mind than had troubled him before, since he could remember.



CHAPTER XIII.

MOONLIGHT ON THE JUNO.

Donald felt that he was in hot water, in spite of the assurance of Captain Patterdale that he believed him innocent of all wrong, and he was sorry that he had made any bargains, conditional or otherwise, with Captain Shivernock or Laud Cavendish. The nabob would not tell him what was wrong, and he could not determine whether Laud or some other person had stolen the money. He went into the house on his return from the elegant mansion. His mother had gone to watch with a sick neighbor, though his sister Barbara was sewing in the front room.

Donald was troubled, not by a guilty conscience, but by the fear that he had innocently done wrong in concealing his relations with Captain Shivernock and with Laud Cavendish. Somehow the case looked different now from what it had before. Laud had told where he got his money, and given a good reason, as it seemed to him at the time, for concealment; but why the strange man desired secrecy he was utterly unable to imagine. He almost wished he had told Captain Patterdale all about his meeting with Captain Shivernock on Long Island, and asked his advice. It was not too late to do so now. Donald was so uneasy that he could not sit in the house, and went out doors. He walked about the beach for a time, and then sat down in front of the shop to think the matter over again.

Suddenly, while he was meditating in the darkness, he saw the trunk lights of the Maud illuminated, as though there was a fire in her cabin. He did not wait to study the cause, but jumping into his skiff, he pushed off, and sculled with all his might towards the yacht. He was mad and desperate, for the Maud was on fire! He leaped on board, with the key of the brass padlock which secured the cabin door in his hand; but he had scarcely reached the deck before he saw a man on the wharf retreating from the vicinity of the yacht. Then he heard the flapping of a sail on the other side of the pier; but he could not spend an instant in ascertaining who the person was. He opened the cabin door, and discovered on the floor a pile of shavings in flames. Fortunately there was a bucket in the standing-room, with which he dashed a quantity of water upon the fire, and quickly extinguished it. All was dark again; but to make sure, Donald threw another pail of water on the cabin floor, and then it was not possible for the fire to ignite again.

Although the deck had been swept clean before the launch, the side next to the wharf was littered with shavings, and a basket stood there, in which they had been brought on board, for it was still half full. Donald found that one of the trunk lights had been left unfastened, in the hurry and excitement of attending the festival at Mr. Rodman's house. Through the aperture the incendiary had stuffed the shavings, and dropped a card of lighted matches upon them, for he saw the remnants of it when he threw on the first water. Who had done this outrageous deed? Donald sprang upon the wharf as he recalled the shadowy form and the flapping sail he had seen. Leaping upon the pier, he rushed over to the other side, where he discovered a sail-boat slowly making her way, in the gentle breeze, out of the dock.

Beyond a peradventure, the boat was the Juno. Her peculiar rig enabled him readily to identify her. Was Laud Cavendish in her, and was he wicked enough to commit such an act? Donald returned to the Maud to assure himself that there was no more fire in her. He was satisfied that the yacht was not injured, for he had extinguished the fire before the shavings were well kindled. He fastened the trunk lights securely, locked the cabin door, and taking possession of the basket, he embarked in his skiff again. Sculling out beyond the wharf, he looked for the Juno. The wind was so light she made but little headway, and was standing off shore with the breeze nearly aft. It was Laud's boat, but it might not be Laud in her. Why should the wretch attempt to burn the Maud?

Then the scene in Mr. Rodman's garden, when Laud had been invited to leave, came to his mind, and Donald began to understand the matter. While he was thinking about it, the moon came out from behind a cloud which had obscured it, and cast its soft light upon the quiet bay, silvering the ripples on its waters with a flood of beauty.

Donald glanced at the basket in the skiff, still half filled with shavings. It was Laud's basket, beyond a doubt, for he had often seen it when the owner came down to the shore to embark in his boat. The initials of his father's name, "J. C.," were daubed upon the outside of it, for there is sometimes as much confusion in regard to the ownership of baskets as of umbrellas. Donald was full of excitement, and full of wrath; and as soon as he got the idea of the guilty party through his head, he sculled the skiff with all the vigor of a strong arm towards the Juno, easily overhauling her in a few moments. He was so excited that he dashed his skiff bang into the Juno, to the serious detriment of the white paint which covered her side.

"What are you about, Don John?" roared Laud Cavendish, who had seen the approaching skiff, but had not chosen to hail her.

"What are you about?" demanded Donald, answering the question with another, Yankee fashion, as he jammed his boat-hook into the side of the Juno, and drew the skiff up to the yacht, from which it had receded.

Taking the painter, he jumped on the forward deck of the Juno, with the boat-hook still in his hand.

"What do you mean by smashing into me in that kind of style, and jabbing your boat-hook into the side of my boat?" cried Laud, as fiercely as he could pitch his tones, though there seemed to be a want of vim to them.

"What do you mean by setting the Maud afire?" demanded Donald. "That's what I want to know."

"Who set her afire?" replied Laud, in rather hollow tones.

"You did, you miserable spindle-shanks!"

"I didn't set her afire, Don John," protested Laud.

"Yes, you did! I can prove it, and I will prove it, too."

"You are excited, Don John. You don't know what you are talking about."

"I think I do, and I'll bet you'll understand it, too, if there is any law left in the State of Maine."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean what I say, and say what I mean."

"I haven't been near the Maud."

"Yes, you have! Didn't I see you sneaking across the wharf? Didn't I see your mainsail alongside the pier? You can't humbug me. I know a pint of soft soap from a pound of cheese," rattled Donald, who could talk very fast when he was both excited and enraged; and Laud's tongue was no match for his member.

"I tell you, I haven't been near the Maud."

"Don't tell me! I saw it all; I have two eyes that I wouldn't sell for two cents apiece; and I'll put you over the road at a two-forty gait."

Laud saw that it was no use to argue the point, and he held his peace, till the boat-builder had exhausted his rhetoric, and his stock of expletives.

"What did you do it for, Laud?" asked he, at last, in a comparatively quiet tone.

"I have told you a dozen times I didn't do it," replied the accused. "You talk so fast I can't get a word in edgeways."

"It's no use for you to deny it," added Don John.

"Do you think I'd burn your yacht?"

"Yes, I do; and I know you tried to do it. If I hadn't been over by the shop, you would have done it."



"I didn't do it, I repeat. Do you think I would lie about it? Do you think I have no sense of honor about me!"

"Confound your honor!" sneered Donald.

"Don't insult me. When you assail my honor, you touch me in a tender place."

"In a soft place, and that's in your head."

"Be careful, Don John. I advise you not to wake a sleeping lion."

"A sleeping jackass!"

"I claim to be a gentleman, and my honor is my capital stock in life."

"You have a very small capital to work on, then."

"I warn you to be cautious, Don John. My honor is all I have to rest upon in this world."

"It's a broken reed. I wouldn't give a cent's worth of molasses candy for the honor of a fellow who would destroy the property of another, because he got mad with him."

In spite of his repeated warnings, Laud Cavendish was very forbearing, though Donald kept the boat-hook where it would be serviceable in an emergency.

"No, Don John, I did not set the Maud afire. Though you went back on me this afternoon, and served me a mean and shabby trick, I wouldn't do such a thing as burn your property."

"Who went back on you?" demanded Donald.

"You did; when you could have saved me from being driven out of the garden, you took the trouble to say, you did not invite me," replied Laud, reproachfully.

"I didn't invite you; and I had no right to invite you."

"No matter for that; if you had just said that your friend, Mr. Cavendish, had come in with you it would have been all right."

"My friend, Mr. Cavendish!" repeated Donald, sarcastically. "I didn't know I had any such friend."

"I didn't expect that of you, after what I had done for you, Don John."

"Spill her on that tack! You never did anything for me."

"I took that boat off your hands, and I suppose you got a commission for selling her. Wasn't that doing something for you?"

"No!" protested Donald.

"I have always used you well, and done more for you than you know of. You wouldn't have got the job to build the Maud if it hadn't been for me. I spoke a good word for you to Mr. Rodman," whined Laud.

"You!" exclaimed Donald, disgusted with this ridiculous pretension. "If you said anything to Mr. Rodman about it, I wonder he didn't give the job to somebody else."

"You think I have no influence, but you are mistaken; and if you insist on quarrelling with me, you will find out, when it is too late, what folks think of me."

"They think you are a ninny; and when they know what you did to-night, they will believe you are a knave," replied Donald. "You didn't cover your tracks so that I couldn't find them; and I can prove all I say. I didn't think you were such a rascal before."

"You won't make anything out of that sort of talk with me, Don John," said Laud, mildly. "You provoke me to throw you overboard, but I don't want to hurt you."

"I'll risk your throwing me overboard. I can take care of myself."

"I said I didn't want to hurt you, and I don't. I didn't set your boat afire; I wouldn't do such a thing."

"You can tell that to Squire Peters to-morrow."

"You don't mean to say that you will prosecute me, Don John?"

"Yes; I do mean it."

"I came down from the harbor, and tacked between those two wharves," explained Laud. "I was standing off on this tack when you bunted your skiff into me. That's all I know about it."

"But I saw you on the wharf. No matter; we won't argue the case here," said Donald, as he made a movement to go into his skiff.

"Hold on, Don John. I want to talk with you a little."

"What about?"

"Two or three things. I am going off on a long cruise in a day or two. I think I shall go as far as Portland, and try to get a situation in a store there."

"I don't believe you will have a chance to go to Portland, or anywhere else, unless it's Thomaston, where the state prison is located."

"I didn't think you would be so rough on me, Don John. I didn't set your boat afire; but I can see that it may go hard with me, because I happened to be near the wharf at the time."

"You will find that isn't the worst of it," added Donald.

"What is the worst of it?"

"Never mind; I'll tell Squire Peters to-morrow, when we come together."

"Don't go to law about it, Don John; for though I didn't do it, I don't want to be hauled up for it. Even a suspicion is sometimes damaging to the honor of a gentleman."

"You had better come down from that high horse, and own up that you set the Maud afire."

"Will you agree not to prosecute, if I do?" asked Laud.

Donald, after his anger subsided, thought more about the "white cross of Denmark" than he did about the fire; for the latter had done him no damage, while the former might injure his character which he valued more than his property.

"I will agree not to prosecute, if you will answer all my questions," he replied; but I confess that it was an error on the part of the young man.

Donald fastened the painter of his skiff at the stern, and took a seat in the standing-room of the Juno.

"I will tell you all I know, if you will keep me out of the courts," added Laud, promptly.

"Why did you set the Maud afire?"

"Because I was mad, and meant to get even with you for what you did at Rodman's this afternoon. You might do me a great service, Don John, if you would. I like Nellie Patterdale; I mean, I'm in love with her. I don't believe I can live without her."

"I'll bet you'll have to," interposed Donald, indignantly.

"You don't know what it is to love, Don John."

"I don't want to know yet awhile; and I think you had better live on a different sort of grub. What a stupid idea, for a fellow like you to think of such a girl as Nellie Patterdale!"

"Is it any worse for me to think of her, than it is for you to do so?" asked Laud.

"I never thought of her in any such way as that. We went to school together, and have always been good friends; that's all."

"That's enough," sighed Laud. "I actually suffer for her sake. If the quest were hopeless," Laud read novels—"I think I should drown myself."

"You had better do it right off, then," added Donald.

"You can pity me, Don John, for I am miserable. Day and night I think only of her. My feelings have made me almost crazy, and I hardly knew what I was about when I applied the incendiary torch to the Maud."

"I thought it was a card of friction matches."

"The world will laugh and jeer at me for loving one above my station; but love makes us equals."

"Perhaps it does when the love is on both sides," added the practical boat-builder.

"But I think I am fitted to adorn a higher station than that in which I was born."

"If so, you will rise like a stick of timber forced under the water; but it strikes me that you have begun in the wrong way to figure for a rise."

"But I wish to rise only for Nellie's sake. You can help me, Don John; you can take me into her presence, where I can have the opportunity to win her affection."

"I guess not, Laud. Shall I tell you what she said to me this afternoon?"

"Tell me all."

"She said you were an impudent puppy, and she was sorry I invited you."

"Did she say that?" asked Laud, looking up to the cold, pale moon.

"She did; and I was obliged to tell her that I didn't invite you."

"Perhaps I have been a fool," mused the lover.

"There's no doubt of it. Nellie Patterdale dislikes, and even despises you. I have heard her say as much, in so many words. That ought to comfort you, and convince you that it is no use to fish any longer in those waters."

"Possibly you are right; but it is only because she does not know me. If she only knew me better—"

"She would dislike and despise you still more," said Donald, sharply. "If she only knew that you set the Maud afire, she would love you as a homeless dog likes the brickbats that are thrown at him."

"You will not tell her that, Don John?"

"I will not tell her, or any one else, if you behave yourself. Now I want to ask some more questions."

"Go on, Don John."

"Where did you get the money you paid for the Juno?" demanded Donald, with energy.

"Where did I get it?" repeated Laud, evidently startled by the question, so vigorously put. "I told you where I got it."

"Tell me again."

"Captain Shivernock gave it to me."

"What for?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Why not?"

"Because it is a matter between the captain and me."

"I don't care if it is. You said you would answer all my questions, if I would not prosecute."

"Questions about the Maud," explained Laud. "I have told you the secret of my love—"

"Hang the secret of your love!" exclaimed Donald, disgusted with that topic. "I meant all questions."

"But I cannot betray the secrets of Captain Shivernock. My honor—"

"Stick your honor up chimney!" interrupted Donald. "If you go back on the agreement, I shall take the fire before Squire Peters. The question I asked was, why Captain Shivernock gave you four or five hundred dollars?"

"I wish I could answer you, Don John; but I do not feel at liberty to do so just now. I will see the captain, and perhaps I may honorably give you the information you seek."

"You needn't mince the matter with me. I know all about it now; but I want it from you."

"All about what?" asked Laud.

"You needn't look green about it. Do you remember the Saturday when I told you the Juno was for sale?"

"I do, very distinctly," answered Laud. "You were in the Juno at the time."

"I was; we parted company, and you stood over towards the Northport shore."

"Just so."

"Over there you met Captain Shivernock."

"I didn't say I did."

"But I say you did," persisted Donald. "For some reason best known to himself, the captain did not want any one to know he was on Long Island that night."

Laud listened with intense interest.

"Do you know what his reason was, Don John?"

"No, I don't. You saw his boat, and overhauled him near the shore."

"Well?"

"You overhauled him near the shore, and he gave you a pile of money not to say that you had seen him."

"It is you who says all this, and not I," added Laud, with more spirit than he had before exhibited. "My honor is not touched."

"I wish you wouldn't say anything more about your honor. It is like a mustard seed in a haymow, and I can't see it," snapped Donald.

"You can see that I came honorably by the money."

"Honestly by it; I am satisfied on that point," replied Donald. "If I had not been, I wouldn't have sold you the boat. You see I knew something of Captain Shivernock's movements about that time. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have believed that he gave it to you."

"Then you must have seen the captain at the same time."

"I didn't say I saw him," laughed Donald. "But the wind is breezing up, and we are half way over to Brigadier Island. Come about, Laud."

The skipper acceded to the request, and headed the Juno for Belfast.



CHAPTER XIV.

CAPTAIN SHIVERNOCK'S JOKE.

Donald considered himself shrewd, sharp, and smart, because he had induced Laud virtually to own that Captain Shivernock had given him the money to purchase his silence, but Donald was not half so shrewd, sharp, and smart as he thought he was.

"Mr. Cavendish, it's no use for us to mince this matter," he continued, determined further to draw out his companion, and feeling happy now, he was very respectful to him.

"Perhaps not, Don John."

"It can do no harm for you and me to talk over this matter. You saw Captain Shivernock on that Saturday morning—didn't you?"

"Of course, if I say I did, you will not let on about it—will you?"

"Not if I can help it; for the fact is, I am in the same boat with you."

"Then you saw the captain."

"Of course I did."

"But what was he doing down there, that made him so particular to keep shady about it?"

"I haven't the least idea. It was the morning after Hasbrook was pounded to a jelly in his own house; but I am satisfied that the captain had nothing to do with it."

"I am not so sure of that," added Laud.

"I am. I went to the captain's house before he returned that day, and both Sykes and his wife told me he had left home at four o'clock that morning, and this was after the pounding was done. Besides, the captain was over on Long Island when I saw him. If he had done the deed, he would have got home before daylight, for the wind was fresh and fair. Instead of that, he was over at Turtle Head when I first saw him. The Juno got aground with him near Seal Harbor, which made him so mad he would not keep her any longer. He was mad because she wasn't a centre-boarder. I suppose after we parted he went over to the Lincolnville or Northport Shore, and hid till after dark in Spruce Harbor, Saturday Cove, or some such place. At any rate, I was at his house in the evening, when he came home."

"The old fellow had been up to some trick, you may depend upon it," added Laud, sagely.

"I came to the conclusion that his desire to keep dark was only a whim, for he is the strangest man that ever walked the earth."

"That's so; but why should he give me such a pile if he hadn't been up to something?"

"And me another pile," added Donald. "We can talk this thing over between ourselves, but not a word to any other person."

"Certainly; I understand. I am paid for holding my tongue, and I intend to do so honorably."

"So do I, until I learn that there is something wrong."

"You have told me some things I did not know before, Don John," suggested Laud.

"You knew that the captain was down by Long Island."

"Yes, but I didn't know he was at Turtle Head; and I am satisfied now that he is the man that shook up Hasbrook that night," continued Laud, in meditative mood.

"Are you? Then I will let the whole thing out," exclaimed Donald.

"No, no! don't do that!" protested Laud. "That wouldn't be fair, at all."

"I would not be a party to the concealment of such an outrage."

"You don't understand it. Hasbrook is a regular swindler."

"That is no reason why he should be pounded half to death in the middle of the night."

"He borrowed a thousand dollars of Captain Shivernock a short time before the outrage. The captain told him he would lend him the money if Hasbrook would give him a good indorser on the paper. After the captain had parted with the money, he ascertained that the indorser was not worth a dollar. Hasbrook had told him the name was that of a rich farmer, and of course the captain was mad. He tried to get back his money, for he knew Hasbrook never paid anything if he could help it. Here is the motive for the outrage," reasoned Laud.

"Why didn't he prosecute him for swindling? for that's what it was."

"Captain Shivernock says he won't trouble any courts to fight his battles for him; he can fight them himself."

"It was wrong to pound any man as Hasbrook was. Why, he wasn't able to go out of the house for a month," added Donald, who was clearly opposed to Lynch law.

Donald was somewhat staggered in his belief by the evidence of his companion, but he determined to inquire further into the matter, and even hoped now that Hasbrook would call upon him.

"One more question, Laud. Do you know where Captain Shivernock got the bills he paid you, and you paid me?" asked he.

"Of course I don't. How should I know where the captain gets his money?" replied Laud, in rather shaky tones.

"True; I didn't much think you would know."

"What odds does it make where he got the bills?" asked Laud, faintly.

"It makes a heap of odds."

"I don't see why."

"I'll tell you why. I paid three of those bills to Mr. Leach to-night for the Maud's suit of sails. One of them was a mended bill."

"Yes, I remember that one, for I noticed it after the captain gave me the money," added Laud.

"Mr. Leach paid that bill to Captain Patterdale."

"To Captain Patterdale!" exclaimed Laud, springing to his feet.

"What odds does it make to you whom he paid it to?" asked Donald, astonished at this sudden demonstration.

"None at all," replied Laud, recovering his self-possession.

"What made you jump so, then?"

"A mosquito bit me," laughed Laud. But it was a graveyard laugh. "Leach paid the bill to Captain Patterdale—you say?"

"Yes, and Captain Patterdale says there is something wrong about the bill," continued Donald, who was far from satisfied with the explanation of his companion.

"What was the matter? Wasn't the bill good?" inquired Laud.

"Yes, the bill was good; but something was wrong, he didn't tell me what."

"That was an odd way to leave it. Why didn't he tell you what was wrong?"

"I don't know. I suppose he knows what he is about, but I don't."

"I should like to know what was wrong about this bill. It has passed through my hands, and it may affect my honor in some way," mused Laud.

"You had better have your honor insured, for it will get burned up one of these days," added Donald, as he rose from his seat, and hauled in his skiff, which was towing astern.

He stepped into the boat, and tossed Laud's basket to him.

"Here is your basket, Laud," added he. "It was my evidence against you; and next time, when you want to burn a yacht, don't leave it on her deck."

"You will keep shady—won't you, Don John?" he pleaded.

"That will depend upon what you say and do," answered Donald, as he shoved off, and sculled to the wharf where the Maud lay, to assure himself that she was in no danger.

He was not quite satisfied to trust her alone all night, and he decided to sleep in her cabin. He went to the house, and told Barbara he was afraid some accident might happen to the yacht, and with the lantern and some bed-clothes, he returned to her. He swept up the half-burned shavings, and threw them overboard. There was not a vestige of the fire left, and he swabbed up the water with a sponge. Making his bed on the transom, he lay down to think over the events of the evening. He went to sleep after a while, and we will leave him in this oblivious condition while we follow Laud Cavendish, who, it cannot be denied, was in a most unhappy frame of mind. He ran the Juno up to her moorings, and after he had secured her sail, and locked up the cabin door, he went on shore. Undoubtedly he had done an immense amount of heavy thinking within the last two hours, and as he was not overstocked with brains, it wore upon him.

It was nearly ten o'clock in the evening, but late as it was, Laud walked directly to the house of Captain Shivernock. There was a light in the strange man's library, or office, and another in the dining-room, where the housekeeper usually sat, which indicated that the family had not retired. Laud walked up to the side door, and rang the bell, which was promptly answered by Mrs. Sykes.

"Is Captain Shivernock at home?" asked the late visitor.

"He is; but he don't see anybody so late as this," replied the housekeeper.

"I wish to speak to him on very important business, and it is absolutely necessary that I should see him to-night," persisted Laud.

"I will tell him."

Mrs. Sykes did tell him, and the strange man swore he would not see any one, not even his grandmother, come down from heaven. She reported this answer in substance to Laud.

"I wish to see him on a matter in which he is deeply concerned," said the troubled visitor. "Tell him, if you please, in regard to the Hasbrook affair."

Perhaps Mrs. Sykes knew something about the Hasbrook affair herself, for she promptly consented to make this second application for the admission of the stranger, for such he was to her.

She returned in a few moments with an invitation to enter, and so it appeared that there was some power in the "Hasbrook affair." Laud was conducted to the library,—as the retired shipmaster chose to call the apartment, though there were not a dozen books in it,—where the captain sat in a large rocking-chair, with his feet on the table.

"Who are you?" demanded the strange man; and we are obliged to modify his phraseology in order to make it admissible to our pages.

"Mr. Laud Cavendish, at your service," replied he, politely.

"Mister Laud Cavendish!" repeated the captain, with a palpable sneer; "you are the swell that used to drive the grocery wagon."

"I was formerly employed at Miller's store, but I am not there now."

"Well, what do you want here?"

"I wish to see you, sir."

"You do see me—don't you?" growled the eccentric. "What's your business?"

"On the morning after the Hasbrook outrage, Captain Shivernock, you were seen at Seal Harbor," said Laud.

"Who says I was?" roared the captain, springing to his feet.

"I beg your pardon sir; but I say so," answered Laud, apparently unmoved by the violence of his auditor. "You were in the boat formerly owned by Mr. Ramsay, and you ran over towards the Northport shore."

"Did you see me?"

"I did," replied Laud.

"And you have come to levy black-mail upon me," added the captain, with a withering stare at his visitor.

"Nothing of the sort, sir. I claim to be a gentleman."

"O, you do!"

Captain Shivernock laughed heartily.

"I do, sir. I am not capable of anything derogatory to the character of a gentleman."

"Bugs and brickbats!" roared the strange man, with another outburst of laughter. "You are a gentleman! That's good! And you won't do anything derogatory to the character of a gentleman. That's good, too!"

"I trust I have the instincts of a gentleman," added Laud, smoothing down his jet mustache.

"I trust you have; but what do you want of me, if you have the instincts of a gentleman, and don't bleed men with money when you think you have them on the hip?"

"If you will honor me with your attention a few moments, I will inform you what I want of you."

"Good again!" chuckled the captain. "I will honor you with my attention. You have got cheek enough to fit out a life insurance agency."

"I am not the only one who saw you that Saturday morning," said Laud.

"Who else saw me?"

"Don John."

"How do you know he did?"

"He told mo so."

"The young hypocrite!" exclaimed the strange man, with an oath. "I made it a rule years ago never to trust a man or a boy who has much to do with churches and Sunday Schools. The little snivelling puppy! And he has gone back on me."

"It is only necessary for me to state facts," answered Laud. "You can form your own conclusions, without any help from me."

"Perhaps I can," added Captain Shivernock, who seemed to be in an unusual humor on this occasion, for the pretentious manners of his visitor appeared to amuse rather than irritate him.

"Again, sir, Jacob Hasbrook, of Lincolnville, believes you are the man who pounded him to a jelly that night," continued Laud.

"Does he?" laughed the captain. "Well, that is a good joke; but I want to say that I respect the man who did it, whoever he is."

"Self-respect is a gentlemanly quality. The man who don't respect himself will not be respected by others," said Laud, stroking his chin.

"Eh?"

Laud confidently repeated the proposition.

"You respect yourself, and of course you respect the man that pounded Hasbrook," he added.

"Do you mean to say I flogged Hasbrook?" demanded the strange man, doubling his fist, and shaking it savagely in Laud's face.

"It isn't for me to say that you did, for you know better than I do; but you will pardon me if I say that the evidence points in this direction. Hasbrook has been over to Belfast several times to work up his case. The last time I saw him he was looking for Don John, who, I am afraid, is rather leaky."

In spite of his bluff manners, Laud saw that the captain was not a little startled by the information just imparted.

"The miserable little psalm-singer," growled the strange man, walking the room, muttering to himself. "If he disobeys my orders, I'll thrash him worse than—Hasbrook was thrashed."

"It is unpleasant to be suspected of a crime, and revolting to the instincts of a gentleman," added Laud.

"Do you mean to say that I am suspected of a crime, you long-eared puppy?" yelled the captain.

"I beg your pardon, Captain Shivernock, but it isn't agreeable to a gentleman to be called by such opprobrious names," said Laud, rising from his chair, and taking his round-top hat from the table. "I am willing to leave you, but not to be insulted."

Laud looked like the very impersonation of dignity itself, as he walked towards the door.

"Stop!" yelled the captain.

"I do not know that any one but Hasbrook suspects you of a crime," Laud explained.

"I'm glad he does suspect me," added the strange man, more gently. "Whoever did that job served him just right, and I envy the man that did it."

"Still, it is unpleasant to be suspected of a crime."

"It wasn't a crime."

"People call it so; but I sympathize with you, for like you I am suspected of a crime, of which, like yourself, I am innocent."

"Are you, indeed? And what may your crime be, Mr. Cavendish?"

"It is in this connection that I wish to state my particular business with you."

"Go on and state it, and don't be all night about it."

"I may add that I also came to warn you against the movements of Hasbrook. I will begin at the beginning."

"Begin, then; and don't go round Cape Horn in doing it," snarled the captain.

"I will, sir. Captain Patterdale—"

"Another miserable psalm-singer. Is he in the scrape?"

"He is, sir. He has lost a tin box, which contained nearly fourteen hundred dollars in cash, besides many valuable papers."

"I'm glad of it; and I hope he never will find it," was the kindly expression of the eccentric nabob for the Christian nabob. "Was the box lost or stolen?"

"Stolen, sir."

"So much the better. I hope the thief will never be discovered."

Laud did not say how he happened to know that the tin box had been stolen, for Captain Patterdale, the deputy sheriff, and Nellie were supposed to be the only persons who had any knowledge of the fact.

"It appears that in this tin box there was a certain fifty-dollar bill, which had been torn into four parts, and mended by pasting two strips of paper upon it, one extending from right to left, and the other from top to bottom, on the back."

"Eh?" interposed the wicked nabob. "Wait a minute."

The captain opened an iron safe in the room, and from a drawer took out a handful of bank bills. From these he selected three, and tossed them on the table.

"Like those?" he inquired, with interest.

"Exactly like them," replied Laud, astonished to find that each was the counterpart of the one he had paid Donald for the Juno, and had the "white cross of Denmark" upon it.

"Do you know how those bills happened to be in that condition, Mr. Cavendish?" chuckled the captain.

"Of course I do not, sir."

"I'll tell you, my gay buffer. I have got a weak, soft place somewhere in my gizzard; I don't know where; if I did, I'd cut it out. About three months ago, just after I brought from Portland one hundred of these new fifty-dollar bills, there was a great cry here for money for some missionary concern. I read something in the newspaper, at this time, about what some of the missionaries had done for a lot of sailors who had been cast away on the South Sea Islands. I thought more of the psalm-singers than ever before, and I was tempted to do something for them. Well, I actually wrote to some parson here who was howling for money, and stuck four of those bills between the leaves. I think it is very likely I should have sent them to the parson, if I hadn't been called out of the room. I threw the note, with the bills in it, on the table, and went out to see a pair of horses a jockey had driven into the yard for me to look at. When I came back and glanced at the note, I thought what a fool I had been, to think of giving money to those canting psalm-singers. I was mad with myself for my folly, and I tore the note into four pieces before I thought that the bills were in it. But Mrs. Sykes mended them as you see. Go on with your yarn, my buffer."

"That bill I paid to Don John for the Juno," continued Laud. "He paid it to Mr. Leach, the sail-maker, who paid it to Captain Patterdale, and he says it was one of the bills in the tin chest when it was stolen. Don John says he had it from me."

"Precisely so; and that is what makes it unpleasant to be suspected of a crime," laughed Captain Shivernock. "But you don't state where you got the bill, Mr. Cavendish. Perhaps you don't wish to tell."

"I shall tell the whole story with the greatest pleasure," added Laud. "I was sailing one day down by Haddock Ledge, when I saw a man tumble overboard from a boat moored where he had been fishing. He was staving drunk, and went forward, as I thought, to get up his anchor. The boat rolled in the sea, and over he went. I got him out. The cold water sobered him in a measure, and he was very grateful to me. He went to his coat, which he did not wear when he fell, and took from his pocket a roll of bills. He counted off ten fifties, and gave them to me. Feeling sure that I had saved his life, I did not think five hundred dollars was any too much to pay for it, and I took the money. I don't think he would have given me so much if he hadn't been drunk. I asked him who he was, but he would not tell me, saying he didn't want his friends in Boston to know he had been over the bay, and in the bay; but he said he had been staying in Belfast a couple of days."

"Good story!" laughed the wicked nabob.

"Every word of it is as true as preaching," protested Laud.

"Just about," added the captain, who hadn't much confidence in preaching.

"You can see, Captain Shivernock, that I am in an awkward position," added Laud. "I have no doubt the man I saved was the one who stole the tin box. He paid me with the stolen bills."

"It is awkward, as you say," chuckled the strange man. "I suppose you wouldn't know the fellow you saved if you saw him."

"O, yes, I think I should," exclaimed Laud. "But suppose, when Captain Patterdale comes to me to inquire where I got the marked bill, I should tell him this story. He wouldn't believe a word of it."

"He would be a fool if he did," exclaimed Captain Shivernock, with a coarse grin. "Therefore, my gay buffer, don't tell it to him."

"But I must tell him where I got the bill," pleaded Laud.

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the eccentric, shaking his sides as though they were agitated by a young earthquake. "Tell him I gave you the bill!"

The captain seemed to be intensely amused at the novel idea; and Laud did not object; on the contrary, he seemed to appreciate the joke. It was midnight when he left the house, and went to the Juno to sleep in her cabin. If he had gone home earlier in the evening, he might have seen Captain Patterdale, who did him the honor to make a late call upon him.



CHAPTER XV.

LAUD CAVENDISH TAKES CARE OF HIMSELF.

Donald did not sleep very well in the cabin of the Maud, not only because his bed was very hard and uncomfortable, but because he was troubled; and before morning he fully realized the truth of the saying, in regard to certain persons, that "they choose darkness, because their deeds are evil." He wished he had not consented to keep the secret of either Captain Shivernock or Laud Cavendish, and was afraid he had compromised himself by his silence. When he turned out in the morning, he believed he had hardly slept a wink all night, though he had actually slumbered over six hours; but a person who lies awake in the darkness, especially if his thoughts are troublesome, lengthens minutes into hours. But Donald welcomed the morning light when he awoke, and the bright sun which streamed through the trunk ports. He went to the shop, and for two hours before his men arrived worked on the tender of the Maud.

The mast of the yacht was stepped during the forenoon, and after dinner the rigger came to do his part of the work. Samuel Rodman was now so much interested in the progress of the labor on the new yacht, that he spent nearly all his time on board of her. The top mast, gaff, and boom were all ready to go into their places, and the Maud looked as though she was nearly completed. All the members of the Yacht Club were impatient for her to be finished, for the next regatta had been postponed a week, so that the Maud could take part in the affair; and the club were to go on a cruise for ten days, after the race.

There was no little excitement in the club in relation to the Maud. Donald had confidently asserted his belief, weeks before, that she would outsail the Skylark, not as a mere boast, but as a matter of business. His father had made an improvement upon the model of the Sea Foam, which he was reasonably certain would give her the advantage. The young boat-builder had also remedied a slight defect in the arrangement of the centre-board in the Maud, had added a little to the size of the jib and mainsail, and he hoped these alterations would tell in favor of the new craft, while they would not take anything from her stiffness in heavy weather.

"I believe the old folks are as much interested in the next race as the members of the club, Don John," said Rodman, one day, as he came upon the wharf.

"I am glad they are," replied Donald, laughing. "It will make business good for Ramsay & Son."

"Half a dozen of them are going to make up a first prize of one hundred dollars for the regatta; so that the winner of the race will make a good thing by it," added Rodman.

"That will be a handsome prize."

"If the Maud takes it, Don John, the money shall be yours, as you are to sail her."

"O, no!" exclaimed Donald. "I don't believe in that. The prize will belong to the boat."

"If you win the race in the Maud, I shall be satisfied with the glory, without any of the spoils."

"Well, we won't quarrel about it now, for she may not win the first prize."

"Well, the same gentlemen will give a second prize of fifty dollars," continued Rodman. "But don't you expect to get the first prize, Don John?"

"I do; but to expect is not always to win, you know."

"You have always talked as though you felt pretty sure of coming in first," said Rodman, who did not like to see any abatement of confidence on the part of the boat-builder.

"It is the easiest thing in the world to be mistaken, Sam. If the Maud loses the first prize, I may as well shut up shop, and take a situation in a grocery store, for my business would be ruined."

"Not quite so bad as that, I hope," added Rodman.

"Mr. Norwood is waiting to see how she sails, before he orders a yacht for Frank. Can't you invite Frank and his father to sail with us in the race?"

"Certainly, if you desire it, Don John," replied Rodman. "Mr. Norwood is a big man, and he will be a capital live weight for us, if it happens to blow fresh."

"I hope it will blow; if it don't, the Christabel is sure of the first prize. I want just such a day as we had when the Sea Foam cleaned out the Skylark."

"That was a little too much of a good thing. You came pretty near taking the mast out of the Sea Foam that day."

"Not at all; our masts don't come out so easily as that, though I think the mast of the Sea Foam would snap before she would capsize."

"I like that in a boat; it is a good thing to have a craft that will stay right side up. The fellows have got another idea, Don John."

"Well, ideas are good things to have. What is it now?" asked Donald.

"They are going to build a club-house over on Turtle Head."

"On Turtle Head! Why don't they have it down on Manhegan?" which is an island ten miles from the coast of Maine.

"It will be only a shanty, where the fellows can have a good time, and get up chowders. They talk of hiring a hall in the city, and having meetings for mutual improvement during the fall and winter."

"That will be a capital idea."

"We can have a library of books on nautical and other subjects, take the newspapers and magazines, and hang up pictures of yachts and other vessels on the walls. I hope, when you get the Maud done, you will not be so busy, Don John, for you don't attend many of our club meetings."

"I hope to be busier than ever. You see, Sam, I can't afford to run with you rich fellows. I don't wear kid gloves," laughed Donald.

"No matter if you don't; you are just as good a fellow as any of them."

"Everybody uses me first rate; as well as though my father had been a nabob."

"Well, they ought to; for it is brains, not money, that makes the man. We want to see more of you in the club. You must go with us on our long cruise."

"I am afraid I can't spare the time. Ten days is a good while; but it will depend upon whether I get the job to build Mr. Norwood's yacht."

Donald would gladly have spent more time with the club, but his conscience would not permit him to neglect his business. He felt that his success depended entirely upon his own industry and diligence; and he never left his work, except when the occasion fully justified him in doing so. He attended all the regattas as a matter of business, as well as of pleasure; and he had seen the Sea Foam beaten twice by the Skylark since he won the memorable race in the former. Edward Patterdale was fully satisfied, now, that a skilful boatman was as necessary as a fast boat, in order to win the honors of the club, and he wished Donald to "coach" him, until he obtained the skill to compete with the commodore. Donald had promised to do it, as soon as he had time, and the owner of the Sea Foam hoped the opportunity would be afforded during the long cruise.

The work on the Maud was hurried forward as rapidly as was consistent with thoroughness, and in a few days she was ready for the last coats of paint. The boat-builder was favored with good, dry weather, and on the day before the great regatta, she was ready to receive her furniture and stores. The paint was dry and hard; but when the stove-dealer came with the little galley for the cook-room, the deck was carefully covered with old cloths, the cushions were placed on the transoms, the oil-cloth carpet was laid on the floor by Kennedy, who was experienced in this kind of work, and Samuel Rodman was as busy as a bee arranging the crockery ware and stores which he had purchased. It only remained to bend on the sails, which was accomplished early in the afternoon.

With Mr. Rodman, Samuel, and the two workmen on board, Donald made a trial trip in the new craft. The party went down the bay as far as Seal Harbor; but the wind was rather light for her, and she had no opportunity to show her sailing qualities, though with her gaff-topsail and the balloon-jib, she walked by everything afloat that day.

"I am entirely satisfied with her, Don John," said Mr. Rodman, as the Maud approached the city on her return. "I think she will sail well."

"I hope she will, sir," replied Donald. "To-morrow will prove what there is in her."

"She is well built and handsomely finished, and whether she wins the race or not I shall be satisfied. I never looked upon a handsomer yacht in my life. You have done your work admirably, Don John."

"Mr. Kennedy did the joiner work," said Donald, willing to have his foreman, as he called him, share the honors of the day.

"He did it well."

"I only did just what my boss ordered me to do," laughed Kennedy; "and I want to say, that I didn't do the first thing towards planning any part of her. Don John hasn't often asked for any advice from me. He is entitled to all the credit."

"I have no doubt you did all you could to make the job a success," added Mr. Rodman.

"I did; and so did Walker," said Kennedy, indicating the other ship carpenter. "Both of us did our very best, never idling a moment, or making a bad joint; and I can say, there isn't a better built craft in the United States than this yacht. Not a knot or a speck of rot has been put into her. Everything has been done upon honor, and she will be stiff enough to cross the Atlantic in mid-winter. I'd rather be in her than in many a ship I've worked on."

"I'm glad to know all this," replied Mr. Rodman. "Now, Don John, if the firm of Ramsay & Son is ready to deliver the Maud, I will give you a check for the balance due on her."

Donald was all ready, and after the yacht had been moored off the wharf where she had been completed, the business was transacted in the shop. A bill of sale was given, and the boat-builder received a check for four hundred dollars, which he carried into the house and showed to his mother. Of course the good lady was delighted with the success of her son, and Barbara laughed till she shook her curls into a fearful snarl.

"You have done well, Donald," said Mrs. Ramsay. "I thank God that you have been so successful."

"I have paid nearly all my bills, and I shall make about two hundred and fifty dollars on the job," added the young boat-builder. "I think I can build the next one for less money."

"You may not get another one to build, my son."

"That depends upon the race to-morrow. If I beat the Skylark, I'm sure of one."

"Don't be too confident."

"I am to sail the Maud to-morrow, and if there is any speed in her, as I think there is, I shall get it out of her. To-morrow will be a big day for me; but if I lose the race, the firm of Ramsay & Son is used up."

Donald put the check in his wallet, and went out to the shop again, where he found Samuel Rodman looking for him. The owner of the Maud was so delighted with the craft, that he could not keep away from her, and he wanted to go on board again.

"Bob Montague is going to give you a hard pull to-morrow, Don John," said Rodman, as they got into the tender.

"I hope he will do his best; and the harder the pull, the better," replied Donald.

"If we only beat him," suggested Rodman.

"I expect to beat him; but I may be mistaken."

"Bob hauled up the Skylark on the beach this afternoon, and rubbed her bottom with black lead."

"I am glad to hear it."

"Glad? Why?"

"It proves that he means business."

"Of course he means business."

"I wonder if he knows I am to build a yacht for Mr. Norwood, in case I win this race."

"I don't believe he does. I never heard of it till you told me."

"He is such a splendid fellow, that I was afraid he would let me beat him, if he knew I was to make anything by it."

"I think it very likely he would."

"But I want to beat the Skylark fairly, or not at all."

"There comes Laud Cavendish," said Rodman, as the Juno came up the bay, and bore down upon the Maud. "He was blackballed in the club the other day, and he don't feel good. Let's go ashore again, and wait till he sheers off, for I don't want to see him. He will be sure to go on board of the yacht if we are there, for he is always poking his nose in where he is not wanted."

Donald, who was at the oars, pulled back to the shore. The Juno ran close up to the Maud, tacked, and stood up the bay.

"He is gone," said Rodman. "I don't want him asking me why he was blackballed. He is an intolerable spoony."

"Don John!" called some one, as he was shoving off the tender.

Donald looked up, and saw Mr. Beardsley, the deputy sheriff, who had been working up the tin box case with Captain Patterdale.

"I want to see you," added the officer.

Donald wondered if Mr. Beardsley wanted to see him officially; but he was thankful that he was able to look even a deputy sheriff square in the face.

He jumped out of the tender, and Rodman went off to the yacht alone. We are somewhat better informed than the young boat-builder in regard to the visit of the sheriff, and we happen to know that he did come officially; and in order to explain why it was so, it is necessary to go back to the point where we left Mr. Laud Cavendish. He slept in the cabin of the Juno after he left the house of Captain Shivernock. He did not sleep any better than Donald Ramsay that night; and the long surges rolled in by the paddle-wheels of the steamer Richmond, as she came into the harbor early the next morning, awoke him.

The first thing he thought of was his visit to the house of the strange man; the next was his breakfast, and he decided to go on shore, and get the meal at a restaurant. The Juno was moored near the steamboat wharf, where the Portland boat made her landings. This was a convenient place for him to disembark, and he pulled in his tender to the pier. As he approached the landing steps, he saw Captain Shivernock hastening down the wharf with a valise in his hand. It was evident that he was going up the river, perhaps to Bangor. Laud did not like the idea of the captain's going away just at that time. Donald had told Captain Patterdale that the mended bill came from him, and of course the owner of the tin box would immediately come to him for further information.

"Then, if I tell him Captain Shivernock gave it to me, he will want to see him; and he won't be here to be seen," reasoned Laud. "I can't explain why the captain gave me the money, and in his absence I shall be in a bad fix. I must take care of myself."

Laud went to the restaurant, and ate his breakfast; after which he returned to the Juno. He took care of himself by getting under way, and standing over towards Castine, where he dined that day. Then he continued his voyage down the bay, through Edgemoggin Reach to Mount Desert, where he staid several days, living upon "the fat of the land" and the fish of the sea, which go well together. When he was confident that Captain Shivernock had returned, he sailed for Belfast, and arrived after a two days' voyage. The strange man had not come back, and Laud thought it very singular that he had not. Then he began to wonder why the captain had laughed so unreasonably long and loud when he told him to say that he had given him the mended bill. Laud could not see the joke at the time; but now he concluded that the laugh came in because he was going away on a long journey, and would not be in town to answer any questions which Captain Patterdale might propose.

Mr. Cavendish was disturbed, and felt that he was a victim of a practical joke, and he determined to get out of the way again. Unfortunately for him, he had shown himself in the city, and before he could leave he was interviewed by Captain Patterdale and Mr. Beardsley. The white cross of Denmark was pleasantly alluded to again by the former, and exhibited to Laud. Did he know that bill? Had he ever seen it before?

He did not know it; had never seen it.

It was no use to say, in the absence of that gentleman, that Captain Shivernock had given him the bill. It would be equally foolish to tell the Haddock Ledge story in the absence of the generous stranger, who had declined to give his name, though he was kind enough to say that he had spent a few days in Belfast. Since neither of these fictions was available in the present emergency, Laud "went back" on Donald Ramsay. He did not love the boat-builder, and so it was not a sacrifice of personal feeling for him to do it. On the contrary, he would rather like to get his "rival," as he chose to regard him, out of the way.

"But you paid him a considerable sum of money some two months ago," suggested Captain Patterdale.

"Not a red!" protested Laud. "I never paid him any money in my life."

"You bought the Juno of him."

"No, sir; nor of any one else. She don't belong to me."

"But you are using her all the time."

"Captain Shivernock got tired of her, and lets me have the use of her for taking care of her."

"Didn't you say you owned her, and that you were going to change her name from Juno to Nellie?" demanded the captain, sternly.

"I did; but that was all gas," replied Laud, with a sickly grin.

"If you would lie about one thing, perhaps you would about another," said the captain.

"I was only joking when I said I owned the Juno. If you will go up to Captain Shivernock's house, he will tell you all about it."

That was a plain way to solve the problem, and they went to the strange man's house. Laud knew the captain was not at home; but his persecutors gave him the credit of suggesting this step. Sykes and his wife were at home. They did not know whether or not Captain Shivernock had given Laud the use of the Juno, but presumed he had, for the young man was in the house with him half the night, about ten days before. Thus far everything looked well for Laud; and the Sykeses partially confirmed his statements.

"Now, Captain Patterdale, I have answered all your questions, and I wish you would answer mine. What's the matter?" said Laud, putting on his boldest face.

"Never mind what the matter is."

"Well, I know as well as you do. I used to think Don John was a good fellow, and liked him first rate. I didn't think he would be mean, enough to shove his own guilt upon me," replied Laud.

"What do you mean by that?" demanded Captain Patterdale.

"Though I knew about it all the time, I didn't mean to say a word."

"About what?"



"About your tin trunk. We didn't keep any such in our store! I knew what you meant all the time; but I didn't let on that Don John had done it."

"Done what?"

"Stolen it. That day I was in the library with Don John and Hasbrook, I was discharged from Miller's, because I wanted to go away to stay over Sunday. I had a boat down by Ramsay's shop, and I went there to get off. Well, captain, I saw Don John have the same tin trunk I saw in your library."

"Are you telling the truth?"

"Of course I am. I wouldn't go back on Don John if he hadn't tried to lay it to me. If you search his house and shop, I'll bet you'll find the tin trunk, or some of the money and papers."

Captain Patterdale was intensely grieved, even to believe Laud's statement was possibly true; but he decided to have the boat-builder's premises searched before he proceeded any further against Laud. Mr. Beardsley was to do this unpleasant duty, and for this purpose he called on Donald the night before the great race.

The deputy sheriff did his work thoroughly, in spite of the confidence of Donald and the distress of his mother and sister. Perhaps he would not have discovered the four fifty-dollar bills concealed in the bureau if Donald had not assisted him; but he had no help in finding a lot of notes and other papers hidden under a sill in the shop. The boat-builder protested that he knew nothing about these papers, and had never seen them before in his life.

Mrs. Ramsay and Barbara wept as though their hearts would break; but Donald was led away by the sheriff.

That night Captain Shivernock returned by the train from Portland.



CHAPTER XVI.

SATURDAY COVE.

Mr. Beardsley, the deputy sheriff, conducted Donald to the elegant mansion of Captain Patterdale. Perhaps no one who saw them walking together suspected that the boat-builder was charged with so gross a crime as stealing the tin box and its valuable contents. Some persons do not like to walk through the streets with sheriffs and policemen; but Donald was not of that sort, for in spite of all the evidence brought against him, he obstinately refused to believe that he was guilty. Even the fact that several notes and other papers had been found in the shop did not impair his belief in his own innocence. Captain Patterdale was in his library nervously awaiting the return of the officer, when they arrived.

"Don John, I hope you will come out of this all right," said he, as they entered.

"I have no doubt I shall, sir," replied Donald. "If I don't, it will be because I can't prove what is the truth."

Mr. Beardsley reported the result of the search, and handed the captain the four fifty-dollar bills with the papers.

"I have no doubt all these were in the tin box," said the nabob, sadly. "The bills are like those paid me by Hasbrook, and these notes are certainly mine. I don't ask you to commit yourself, Don John, but—"

"Commit myself!" exclaimed Donald, with a look of contempt, which, in this connection, was sublime. "I mean to speak the truth, whether I am committed or not."

"Perhaps you will be able to clear this thing up," added Captain Patterdale. "I wish to ask you a few questions."

"I will answer them truly. The only wrong I have done was to conceal what I thought there was no harm in concealing."

"It is not wise to do things in the dark."

"You will excuse me, sir, but you have done the same thing. If I had known that your tin box was stolen, I should have understood several things which are plain to me now."

"What, for instance?"

"If I had known it, I should have brought these bills to you as soon as Laud paid them to me, to see if they belonged to you. And I should have known why Laud was digging clams on Turtle Head."

"Laud says he paid you no money."

"He paid me three hundred and fifty dollars for the Juno—these four bills and the three I paid Mr. Leach."

"He persists that he don't own the Juno, and says that Captain Shivernock lets him have the use of her for taking care of her," continued the nabob.

Donald's face, which had thus far been clouded with anxiety, suddenly lighted up with a cheerful smile, as he produced the cover of an old tuck-diary, which contained the papers of Ramsay & Son. He opened it, and took therefrom the bill of sale of the Juno, in the well-known writing of Captain Shivernock.

"Does that prove anything?" he asked, as he tossed the paper on the desk, within reach of the inquisitor.

"It proves that Captain Shivernock sold the Juno to you, and consequently he has not owned her since the date of this bill," replied the nabob, as he read the paper.

"Is it likely, then, that Captain Shivernock lets Laud have the use of her for taking care of her?" demanded Donald, warmly.

"Certainly not."

"Is it any more likely that, if I own the Juno, I should let Laud use her for nothing, for he says he never paid me a dollar?"

"I don't think it is."

"Then you can believe as much as you please of the rest of Laud's story, which Mr. Beardsley related to me as we walked up," added Donald.

"He says he saw you have the tin box, Don John."

"And I saw him digging clams in the loam on Turtle Head."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I think he buried the tin box there. I saw where he had been digging, but I didn't know any tin box had been stolen then, and thought nothing of it," answered Donald.

At this moment there was a tremendous ring at the door bell, a ring that evidently "meant business." Captain Patterdale opened the door himself, and Captain Shivernock stalked into the room as haughtily as though he owned the elegant mansion. He had been to Newport and Cape May to keep cool, and had arrived a couple of hours before from Portland. Mrs. Sykes had told him all the news she could in this time, and among other things informed him that Captain Patterdale and the deputy sheriff had called to inquire whether Laud had the use of the boat for taking care of her. By this he knew that the tin trunk matter was under investigation. He was interested, and possibly he was alarmed; at any rate, he went to his safe, put the roll of fifty-dollar bills in his pocket, and hastened over to Captain Patterdale's house.

"When people come to my house, and I'm not at home, I don't like to have them talk to my servants about my affairs," blustered the strange man.

"I don't think we meddled with your affairs any further than to ask if Laud Cavendish had the use of the Juno for taking care of her," explained Captain Patterdale.

"It don't concern you. Laud Cavendish does have the use of the Juno for taking care of her."

"Indeed!" exclaimed the good nabob, glancing at Donald.

"Indeed!" sneered the wicked nabob. "You needn't indeed anything I say. I can speak the truth better than you psalm-singers."

"I am very glad you can, Captain Shivernock, for that is what we are in need of just now," laughed the good nabob. "And since we have meddled with your affairs in your absence, it is no more than right that we should explain the reason for doing so. A tin box, containing nearly fourteen hundred dollars in bills, and many valuable papers, was stolen from this room. Three persons, Jacob Hasbrook, Laud Cavendish, and Don John here, passed through the library when they left the house."