"Hasbrook stole it; he is the biggest scoundrel of the three," added the wicked nabob.
"Perhaps not," continued the good nabob. "A bill which I can identify came back to me the other day. Don John paid it to Mr. Leach, and he to me. Don John says Laud Cavendish paid him the bill."
"And so he did," protested Donald, as the captain glanced at him.
"And I gave it to Laud Cavendish," added Captain Shivernock; thus carrying out the programme which had been agreed upon the night before he went on his journey.
Possibly, if Mr. Laud Cavendish had known that the wicked nabob had returned, he would have hastened to see him, and inform him of the change he had made in the programme. If he had done so, their stories might have agreed better. Captain Patterdale, Mr. Beardsley, and Donald were astonished at this admission.
"For what did you pay it to him?" asked the good nabob.
"None of your business what I paid it to him for. That's my affair," bluffed the wicked nabob.
"But this bill was in the box."
"But how do you know it was? I suppose you will say next that I stole the box."
"I hope you will assist me in tracing out this matter," said the good nabob, as he produced the mended bill. "This is the one; I call it the white cross of Denmark."
Captain Shivernock picked up the bill, and took from his pocket his own roll of fifties.
"You must admit that the bill is peculiar enough to be easily identified," added Captain Patter dale.
"I don't admit it," said the strange man, as he threw the four mended bills together on the desk.
"Now, which is it?"
The wicked nabob laughed and roared in his delight when he saw the confusion of the good nabob.
"They are very like," said the good.
"But three of them are mine, and haven't been out of my hands since the 'white cross of Denmark' was put upon them," added the wicked, still shaking his sides with mirth.
"Still I can identify the one that was in the box. That is it;" and Captain Patterdale held up the right one. "This has been folded, while yours have simply been rolled, and have not a crease in them. Hasbrook paid me the money that was stolen."
"The villain swindled it out of me," growled the wicked.
"But he folded his money, however he got it," continued the good.
"I can bring you a dozen bills with the white cross on them," blustered the wicked, "and all of them folded like that one."
"Can you tell where you got it, captain?"
"From the bank," replied he, promptly; and then more to have his hit at the missionaries than to explain the white cross, he told how the bills were torn. "That's all I have to say," he added; and he stalked out of the house, in spite of the host's request for him to remain, without giving a word or even a look to Donald.
"I am astonished," said Captain Patterdale. "Can it be possible that he paid that bill to Laud?"
Perhaps this was the joke of the strange man—simply to confuse and confound a "psalm-singer."
"It looks as though we had lost the clew," said the deputy sheriff. "At any rate, Don John's story is confirmed."
"Why should the captain give Laud so much money?" mused the nabob.
"I know," said Donald. "I told you, in the first place, that I knew where Laud got the money to pay for the Juno; but it was a great secret affecting another person, and he wished me not to tell."
"I remember that, Don John," added the captain.
"He told me that Captain Shivernock gave him the money; but he would not tell me why he gave it to him; but I knew without any telling, for the captain gave me sixty dollars, besides the Juno, for holding my tongue."
"About what?" asked the nabob, deeply interested in the narrative.
"I don't understand the matter myself; but I will state all the facts, though Captain Shivernock threatened to kill me if I did so. On the morning after the Hasbrook outrage, while I was waiting on Turtle Head for the Yacht Club to arrive, the captain came to the Head, saying he had walked over from Seal Harbor, where he had got aground in his boat. I sailed him down, and on the way he gave me the money. Then he said I was not to mention the fact that I had seen him on Long Island, or anywhere else. I didn't make any promises, and told him I wouldn't lie about it. Then he gave me the Juno, and took my boat, which he returned that night. After I went up in the Juno, I met Laud, and offered to sell him the boat. When we parted, he stood over towards the Northport shore, where Captain Shivernock had gone, and I thought they would meet; but I lost sight of them."
"Then you think the captain paid Laud the money when they met."
"That was what I supposed when Laud paid me for the boat. I believed it was all right. I had a talk with Laud afterwards about it, and I told him how he got the money. He did not deny what I said."
"This was the morning after the Hasbrook outrage—was it?" asked Mr. Beardsley.
"Yes, it was; but I knew nothing about that till night."
"We can easily understand why the captain did not want to be seen near Lincolnville," added the sheriff. "It was he who pounded Hasbrook for swindling him."
"No, sir; I think not," interposed Donald. "I inquired into that matter myself. Mr. Sykes and his wife both told me, before the captain got home, that he left his house at four o'clock in the morning."
"I am afraid they were instructed to say that," said the nabob.
"They shall have a chance to say it in court under oath," added the officer; "for I will arrest the captain to-morrow for the outrage. I traced the steps of a man over to Saturday Cove, in Northport, and that is where he landed."
"Was it the print of the captain's boot?" asked the nabob.
"No; but I have a theory which I shall work up to-morrow. Don John's evidence is the first I have obtained, that amounts to anything."
"If he pounded Hasbrook, why should he run over to Seal Harbor, when he had a fair wind to come up?" asked Donald.
"To deceive you, as it seems he has," laughed Mr. Beardsley. "Probably getting aground deranged his plans."
"But he ran over to Northport after we parted."
"Because it was a better place to conceal himself during the day. Sykes says he went down to Vinal Haven that day. I know he did not. Now, Don John, we must go to Turtle Head to-night, and see about that box."
"I am ready, sir."
"I will go with you," added Captain Patterdale; "and we will take the Sea Foam."
Donald was permitted to go home and comfort his mother with the assurance that he was entirely innocent of the crime with which he was charged; and great was the joy of his mother and sister. The mainsail of the Sea Foam was hoisted when he went on board. The wind was rather light, and it was midnight before the yacht anchored off Turtle Head. The party went ashore in the tender, the sheriff carrying a lantern and a shovel. Donald readily found the place where the earth had been disturbed by Laud's clam-digger. Mr. Beardsley dug till he came to a rock, and it was plain that no tin box was there.
"But I am sure that Laud had been digging here, for I saw the print of his clam-digger," said Donald.
"This hole had been dug before," added the sheriff.
"Even Laud Cavendish would not be fool enough to bury the box in such an exposed place as this," suggested Captain Patterdale.
"I know he came down here on the day the box was stolen," said Donald, "and that he was here with his clam-digger on the day I met Captain Shivernock. He must have put those papers in the shop."
"If the box was ever buried here, it has been removed," added the captain.
"Just look at the dirt which came out of the hole," continued Mr. Beardsley, pointing to the heap, and holding the lantern over it. "What I threw out last is beach gravel. That was put in to fill up the hole after he had taken out the box. When he first buried it, he had to carry off some of the yellow loam. In my opinion, the box has been here."
"It is not here now, and we may as well return," replied Captain Patterdale. "I am really more desirous of finding the papers in the box than the money."
"He has only chosen a new hiding-place for it," said the sheriff. "If we say nothing, and keep an eye on him for a few days, we may find it."
As this was all that could be done, the party returned to the city; and early in the morning Donald went to bed, to obtain the rest he needed before the great day. Possibly Mr. Beardsley slept some that night, though it is certain he was at Saturday Cove, in Northport, the next forenoon. He had a "theory;" and when a man has a theory, he will sometimes go without his sleep in order to prove its truth or its falsity. Jacob Hasbrook was with him, and quite as much interested in the theory as the officer, who desired to vindicate his reputation as a detective. He had driven to the house of the victim of the outrage, and looked the matter over again in the light of the evidence obtained from the boat-builder.
"I have been trying to see Donald Ramsay," said Hasbrook. "I have been to his shop four times, but he's always off on some boat scrape. You say he saw Captain Shivernock the next morning."
"Yes; and the captain didn't want to be seen, which is the best part of the testimony. If it was he, it seems to me you would have known him when he hammered you."
"How could I, when he was rigged up so different, with his head all covered up?" replied Hasbrook, impatiently. "The man was about the captain's height, but stouter."
"He was dressed for the occasion," added the sheriff, as he walked to the shore, where the skiff lay.
They dragged it down to the water,—for it was low tide,—and got into it. Beardsley had traced to the cove the print of the heavy boot, which first appeared in some loam under the window where the ruffian had entered Hasbrook's house. He found it in the sand on the shore; and he was satisfied that the perpetrator of the outrage had arrived and departed in a boat. He had obtained from the captain's boot-maker a description of his boots, but none corresponded with those which had made the prints in Northport and Lincolnville.
At the cove all clew to the ruffian had been lost; but now it was regained.
The sheriff paddled the skiff out from the shore in the direction of Seal Island. The water was clear, and they could see the bottom, which they examined very carefully as they proceeded.
"I see it," suddenly exclaimed Hasbrook, as he grasped the boat-hook.
"Lay hold of it," added the sheriff. "I knew I was right."
"I have it."
Hasbrook hauled up what appeared to be a bundle of old clothes, and deposited it in the bottom of the skiff. Mr. Beardsley had worked up his case very thoroughly, though it was a little singular that he had not thought to ask Donald any questions; but these investigations had been made when the boat-builder was at home all the time, and the detective did not like to talk about the case any more than was necessary. He had ascertained that Captain Shivernock wore his usual gray suit when Donald saw him after the outrage, and he came to the conclusion that the ruffian had been disguised, for Hasbrook would certainly have known him, even in the dark, in his usual dress. They returned to the shore; and the bundle was lifted, to convey it to the beach.
"It is very heavy," said Hasbrook. "I suppose there is a rock in it to sink it."
"Open it, and throw out the rock," added the sheriff.
Instead of a rock, the weight was half a pig of lead, which had evidently been chopped into two pieces with an axe.
"That's good evidence, for the ballast of the Juno is pig lead," said Beardsley, as he stepped on the beach with the clothes in his hand.
They were spread on the sand, and consisted of a large blue woolen frock, such as farmers sometimes wear, a pair of old trousers of very large size, and a pair of heavy cow-hide boots.
"Now I think of it, the man had a frock on," exclaimed Hasbrook.
"That's what made him look stouter than the captain," added Beardsley, as he proceeded to measure one of the boots, and compare it with the notes he had made of the size of the footprints. "It's a plain case; these boots made those tracks."
"And here's the club he pounded me with," said Hasbrook, taking up a heavy stick that had been in the bundle.
"But where in the world did Captain Shivernock get these old duds?" mused the sheriff.
"Of course he procured them to do this job with," replied Hasbrook.
"That's clear enough; but where did they come from? He has covered his tracks so well, that he wouldn't pick these things up near home."
"There comes a boat," said the victim of the outrage, as a sail rounded the point.
"Get out of the way as quick as you can," added the sheriff, in excited tones, as he led the way into the woods near the cove, carrying the wet clothes and boots with him.
"What's the matter now?" demanded Hasbrook.
"That boat is the Juno; Laud Cavendish is in her, and I want to know what he is about. Don't speak a word, or make a particle of noise. If you do, he will sheer off; and I want to see the ballast in that boat."
Laud ran his craft up to the rocks on one side of the cove, where he could land from her; but as it is eleven o'clock, the hour appointed for the regatta, we must return to the city.
THE GREAT RACE.
It was nine o'clock when Donald turned out on the day of the great regatta. He had returned at three in the morning, nearly exhausted by fatigue and anxiety. It was horrible to be suspected of a crime; and bravely as he had carried himself, he was sorely worried. He talked the matter over with his mother and sister while he was eating his breakfast.
"Why should Laud Cavendish charge you with such a wicked deed?" asked his mother.
"To save himself, I suppose," replied Donald. "But he won't make anything by it. He hid those papers in the shop within a day or two, I am sure, for I had my hand in the place where he put them, feeling for a brad-awl I dropped day before yesterday, and I know they were not there then. But he is used up, anyhow, whether we find the box or not, for he tells one story and Captain Shivernock another; and I think Captain Patterdale believes what I say now. But the race comes off to-day, and if I lose it, I am used up too."
The boat-builder left the house, and went on board of the Maud, which lay off the shop. Samuel Rodman was on deck, and they hoisted the mainsail. The wind had hauled round to the north-west early in the morning, and blew a smashing breeze, just such as Donald wanted for the great occasion. In fact, it blew almost a gale, and the wind came in heavy gusts, which are very trying to the nerves of an inexperienced boatman. The Penobscot, gayly dressed with flags, was moored in her position for the use of the judges.
"We shall not want any kites to-day," said Donald, as he made fast the throat halyard.
"No; and you may have to reef this mainsail," added Rodman.
"Not at all."
"But it is flawy."
"So much the better."
"Because a fellow that understands himself and keeps his eyes wide open has a chance to gain something on the heavy flaws that almost knock a boat over. It makes a sharper game of it."
"But Commodore Montague is up to all those dodges."
"I know he is; but in the other race, he lost half his time by luffing up in a squall."
"But don't you expect a fellow to luff up in a squall?" demanded Rodman.
"If necessary, yes; but the point is, to know when it must be done. If you let off the main-sheet or spill the sail every time a puff comes, you lose time," replied Donald. "I believe in keeping on the safe side; but a fellow may lose the race by dodging every capful of wind that comes. There goes the first gun."
"Let us get into line," added Rodman, as he cast off the moorings and hoisted the jib. "Let her drive."
Donald took the helm, and the Maud shot away like an arrow in the fresh breeze.
"Her sails set beautifully," said the skipper for the occasion; though Rodman was nominally the captain of the yacht, and was so recorded in the books of the club.
"Nothing could be better."
"We shall soon ascertain how stiff she is," added Donald, as a heavy flaw heeled the yacht over, till she buried her rail in the water. "I don't think we shall get anything stronger than that. She goes down just so far, and then the wind seems to slide off. I don't believe you can get her over any farther."
"That's far enough," replied Rodman, holding on, to keep his seat in the standing-room.
The Maud passed under the stern of the judges' yacht, and anchored in the line indicated by the captain of the fleet. The Skylark soon arrived, and took her place next to the Penobscot. In these two yachts all the interest of the occasion centred. The Phantom and the Sea Foam soon came into line; and then it was found that the Christabel had withdrawn, for it blew too hard for her. Mr. Norwood and his son came on board, with Dick Adams, who was to be mate of the Maud, and Kennedy, who was well skilled in sailing a boat. Donald had just the crew he wanted, and he stationed them for the exciting race. Mr. Norwood was to tend the jib-sheets in the standing-room, Kennedy the main sheet, while Dick Adams, Frank Norwood, and Sam Rodman were to cast off the cable and hoist the jib forward.
"Are you all ready, there?" called Donald, raising his voice above the noise made by the banging of the mainsail in the fresh breeze.
"All ready," replied Dick Adams, who was holding the rode with a turn around the bitts.
"Don't let her go till I give the word," added Donald. "I want to fill on the port tack."
"Ay, ay!" shouted Dick; "on the port tack."
This was a very important matter, for the course from the judges' station to Turtle Head would give the yachts the wind on the port quarter; and if any of them came about the wrong way, they would be compelled to gybe, which was not a pleasant operation in so stiff a breeze. Donald kept hold of the main-sheet, and by managing the sail a little, contrived to have the tendency of the Maud in the right direction, so that her sail would fill on the port tack. He saw that Dick Adams had the tender on the port bow, so that the yacht would not run it down when she went off.
"There goes the gun!" shouted Rodman, very much excited as the decisive moment came.
But Dick Adams held on, as he had been instructed to do, and pulled with all his might, in order to throw the head of the Maud in the right direction.
"Hoist the jib!" shouted Donald, when he saw that the yacht was sure to cast on her port tack.
Rodman and Norwood worked lively; and in an instant the jib was up, and Mr. Norwood had gathered up the lee sheet.
"Let go!" added Donald, when he felt that the Maud was in condition to go off lively.
She did go off with a bound and a spring. Donald crowded the helm hard up, so that the Maud wore short around.
"Let off the sheet, lively, Kennedy!" said the skipper. "Ease off the jib-sheet, Mr. Norwood!"
"We shall be afoul of the Phantom!" cried Dick Adams, as he began to run out on the foot-ropes by the bowsprit.
"Lay in, Dick!" shouted Donald. "Don't go out there!"
Dick retraced his steps, and came on deck. The Phantom had not cast in the right direction, and was coming around on the starboard tack, which had very nearly produced a collision with the Maud, the two bowsprits coming within a few inches of each other.
"I was going out to fend off," said Dick, as he came aft, in obedience to orders.
"I was afraid you would be knocked off the bowsprit, which is a bad place to be, when two vessels put their noses together. It was a close shave, but we are all right now," replied the skipper.
"The Sea Foam takes the lead," added Mr. Norwood.
"She had the head end of the line. The Skylark made a good start."
"First rate," said Kennedy. "She couldn't be handled any better than she is."
"We lead her a little," continued Mr. Norwood.
"We had the advantage of her about half a length; as the Sea Foam has a length the best of us."
The yachts were to form the line head to the wind, and this line was diagonal with the course to Turtle Head, so that the Sea Foam, which was farthest from the Penobscot, had really two length's less distance to go in getting to Stubb's Point Ledge than the Skylark; but this difference was not worth considering in such a breeze, though, if the commodore was beaten by only half a length by the Maud, he intended to claim the race on account of this disparity. The two yachts in which all the interest centred, both obtained a fair start, the Maud a little ahead of her great rival. The Phantom had to come about, and get on the right tack, for Guilford was too careful to gybe in that wind. The Sea Foam got off very well; and Vice Commodore Patterdale was doing his best to make a good show for his yacht, but she held her position only for a moment. The tremendous gusts were too much for Edward's nerves, and he luffed up, in order to escape one. The Maud went tearing by her, with the Skylark over lapping her half a length.
"Haul up the centre-board a little more, Dick," said Donald, who did not bestow a single glance upon his dreaded rival, for all his attention was given to the sailing of the Maud. "A small pull on the jib-sheet, Mr. Norwood, if you please."
"You gained an inch then," said Kennedy, striving to encourage the struggling skipper.
But Donald would not look at the Skylark. He knew that the shortest distance between two points was by a straight line; and having taken a tree on the main land near Castine as his objective point, he kept it in range with the tompion in the stove-pipe, and did not permit the Maud to wabble about. Occasionally the heavy gusts buried the rail in the brine; but Donald did not permit her to dodge it, or to deviate from his inflexible straight line. She went down just so far, and would go no farther; and at these times it was rather difficult to keep on the seat at the weather side of the standing-room. Dick Adams, Norwood, and Rodman were placed on deck above the trunk, and had a comfortable position. The skipper kept his feet braced against the cleats on the floor, holding on with both hands at the tiller; for in such a blow, it was no child's play to steer such a yacht.
"You are gaining on her, Don John," said Mr. Norwood.
"Do you think so, sir?"
"I know it."
"The end of her bowsprit is about even with the tip of our main boom," added Kennedy.
"How much fin have we down, Dick?" asked the skipper.
The mate of the Maud rushed to the cabin, where the line attached to the centre-board was made fast, and reported on its condition.
"Haul up a little more," continued Donald. "Steady! Not the whole of it, but nearly all."
"It is down about six inches now."
"That will do."
For a few moments all hands were still, watching with intense interest the progress of the race. The commodore, in the Skylark, was evidently doing his level best, for he was running away from the Sea Foam and the Phantom.
"Bravo, Don John!" exclaimed the excited Mr. Norwood. "You are a full length ahead! I am willing to sign the contract with Ramsay & Son to build the yacht for me."
"Don't be too fast, sir. We are not out of the woods yet, and shall not be for some time."
"I am satisfied we are going to beat the Skylark."
"Beat her all to pieces!" added Frank Norwood. "She is doing it as easily as though she were used to it."
"I give you the order to build the yacht," said Mr. Norwood.
"Thank you, sir; but I would rather wait till this race is finished before I take the job. We may be beaten yet—badly beaten, too. There are a dozen things that may use us up. The tide is not up, so that I can't play off the dodge I did in the Sea Foam; and if I could, Bob Montague is up to it."
"There is no need of any dodge of any sort," replied Mr. Norwood. "We are beating the Skylark without manoeuvring; and that is the fairest way in the world to do it."
"This is plain sailing, sir; and the Skylark's best point is on the wind. For aught I know, the Maud may do the best with a free wind," said Donald; and he had well nigh shuddered when he thought of the difference in yachts in this respect.
"It may be so; but we are at least two lengths ahead of her now."
"Over three," said Kennedy.
"So much the better," laughed Mr. Norwood. "The more we gain with the wind free, the less we shall have to make on the wind."
"But really, sir, this running down here almost before the wind is nothing," protested Donald, who felt that his passenger was indulging in strong expectations, which might not be realized. "The tug of war will come when we go about. We have to beat almost dead to windward; and it may be the Maud has given us her best point off the wind."
"You don't expect her to fail on the wind—do you, Don John."
"No, sir; I don't expect her to fail, for she did first rate yesterday, when we tried her. She looked the breeze almost square in the face: but I can't tell how she will do in comparison with the Skylark. Of course I don't expect the Maud to be beaten; but I don't want you to get your hopes up so high, that you can't bear a disappointment."
"We will try to bear it; but Frank don't want a yacht that is sure to be beaten," added Mr. Norwood.
"Then perhaps it is fortunate I didn't take the job, when you offered to give it to me."
"But I think the Maud will win the race," persisted the confident gentleman.
"So do I; but it is always best to have an anchor out to windward."
"Bully for you, Don John!" shouted Kennedy, after the yacht had crossed the channel where the sea was very rough and choppy. "You made a good bit in the last quarter of an hour, and we are a dozen lengths ahead of her."
"Surely she can never gain that distance upon us!" exclaimed Mr. Norwood.
"It is quite possible, sir. I have known a boat to get a full mile ahead of another before the wind, and then be beaten by losing it all, and more too, going to windward. I expect better things than that of the Maud; but she may disappoint me. She is only making her reputation now."
Donald watched his "sight" ahead all the time, and had not seen the Skylark for half an hour. The party was silent again for a while, but the Maud dashed furiously on her course, now and then burying her rail, while the water shot up through the lee scupper-holes into the standing-room. But Dick Adams, who was a natural mechanic, was making a pair of plugs to abate this nuisance.
"Turtle Head!" exclaimed Rodman, who, though he had said but little, watched the movements of the yacht with the most intense delight and excitement.
"We are a square quarter of a mile ahead of the Skylark," said Kennedy. "Business will be good with us, Don John, after this."
"Give her a little more main-sheet, Kennedy," was the skipper's reply, as the yacht passed the Head, and he kept her away a little.
"Eleven thirty," mused Mr. Norwood, who had taken out his gold watch, and noted the moment when the Maud passed the headland.
"Now, mind your eye, all hands!" shouted Donald, as the Maud approached the north-east point of Long Island, where he had to change her course from south-east to south, which involved the necessity, with the wind north-west, of gybing, or coming about head to the wind.
It would take a small fraction of a minute to execute the latter manoeuvre; and as the sails were now partially sheltered under the lee of the land, the bold skipper determined to gybe. Kennedy had early notice of his intention, and had laid the spare sheet where it would not foul anybody's legs. He hauled in all he could with the help of the mate and others.
"Now, over with it," said Donald, as he put the helm down.
The huge mainsail fluttered and thrashed for an instant, and then flew over. Kennedy, who had been careful to catch a turn in the rope, held fast when the sail "fetched up" on the other tack, and then the yacht rolled her rail under on the port side.
"Let off the sheet, lively!" cried Donald.
"That's what I'm doing," replied the stout ship carpenter, paying off the sheet very rapidly, so as to break the shock.
"Steady! belay! Now draw jib there."
As Dick Adams cast off the weather sheet in the new position, Mr. Norwood hauled in the lee. For a short distance the Maud had the wind on her starboard quarter; then the sheets were hauled in, and she took it on the beam, till she was up with the buoy on Stubbs Point Ledge, which she was to round, leaving it on the port. The ledge was not far from the land, on which was a considerable bluff, so that the wind had not more than half its force. In rounding the buoy, it was necessary to gybe again; and it was done without shaking up the yacht half so much as at the north-east point.
"Now comes the pull," said Donald, as the Maud rounded the buoy. "Stand by your sheets! Now brace her up! Give her the whole of the board, Dick."
Donald put the helm down; the jib and mainsail were trimmed as flat as it was judicious to have them; and the Maud was close-hauled, standing up to the northward. The skipper was careful not to cramp her by laying too close to the wind. He was an experienced boatman, and he governed himself more by the feeling of the craft under him than by his sight. He could shut his eyes, and tell by the pressure of the tiller in his hand whether she was cramped, or was going along through the water.
"Did you get the time when the Skylark passed the Head, Mr. Norwood?" asked Donald.
"No; you made things so lively, I hadn't time to look," replied the gentleman. "I should like to know just how many minutes we are ahead of her."
"I think I can tell you, sir," added the skipper, with a smile.
"How many do you think, sir?"
"Five or six."
"Not more than one and a half, Mr. Norwood. Neither yacht has to give the other time, and what we gain belongs to us."
"I should have thought we were at least five minutes ahead of her."
"No, sir. Now we have a chance to manoeuvre a little," added Donald. "I know just what the commodore will do; he will stand on this tack, when he gets round the buoy, till he is almost up with Brigadier Island; then he will make a long stretch. I shall not do so."
"Because, if the wind lessens, he will get under the lee of the land. I shall go just one mile on this tack," replied Donald. "Have you any rubber coats on board, Sam?"
"I have only two."
"You will want them, for we are beginning to toss the spray about, as though it didn't cost anything."
It was decidedly damp on the deck of the Maud, for the water thrown up by the waves, dashing against the weather bow, was carried by the gusty wind to the standing-room, drenching those who sat there. Donald and his companions had no fear of salt water, and were just as happy wet to the skin, as they were when entirely dry, for the excitement was quite enough to keep them warm, even in a chill, north-west wind. Half way across to Brigadier Island, Donald gave the order, "Ready about," and tacked. As he had predicted, Commodore Montague continued on his course, almost over to the island, and then came about. The Maud rushed furiously on her long stretch, dashing the spray recklessly over her deck, till she was almost up with the Northport shore, when she tacked again, and laid her course to windward of the judges' yacht, as the regulations required. As she rounded the Penobscot, a gun announced the arrival of the first yacht. The Maud let off her sheets, and passed under the stern of the judges' craft.
"The Maud!" shouted Donald, enraptured with his victory.
Four minutes and thirty-four seconds later, the gun announced the arrival of the Skylark. It was all of twenty minutes later when the Sea Foam arrived, and half an hour before the Phantom put in an appearance. There was not a shadow of a doubt that the Maud had won the great race.
THE HASBROOK OUTRAGE AND OTHER MATTERS.
The Maud went round to the line, and after picking up her tender and moorings, anchored near the Penobscot.
"There is no doubt now which boat has won the race," said Mr. Norwood.
"None whatever, sir," replied Donald. "The day is ours by as fair a race as ever was sailed. The Maud proved what she could do before we got to Turtle Head; and all the conditions were exactly equal up to that time. If I made anything by manoeuvring, it was only when we tacked a mile north of the Head. We have beaten her squarely in a heavy wind; but how she would do compared with the Skylark in a light breeze, is yet to be proved."
"I am satisfied, Don John; and I give you the job to build the Alice, for that is to be the name of Frank's yacht."
"Thank you, sir. I suppose you don't expect to get her out this season."
"No; if he has her by the first of June of next year, it will be soon enough.—I hope you are satisfied with the Maud, Sam," added Mr. Norwood, turning to the owner of the winning craft.
"I ought to be, and I am," replied Rodman.
"You have the fastest yacht in the fleet."
"She won't be when I sail her. The commodore will clean me out every time, if Don John is not at the helm."
"Then there is a capital opportunity for you to improve in the art of sailing a yacht."
"Plenty of room for that," laughed Rodman.
Dick Adams brought the tender alongside, and pulled Mr. Norwood, Rodman, and Donald to the Penobscot.
"I congratulate you, Don John," said Mr. Montague, extending his hand to the boat-builder. "You have won the race handsomely."
"Thank you, sir."
"It is a double triumph to you, since you both built your yacht, and sailed her," added Mr. Montague.
"It is worth a good deal to me in a business point of view; for I get a job to build another yacht by it. The firm of Ramsay & Son can't afford to have their boats beaten," laughed Donald. "Here comes Robert."
"I suppose he will not be satisfied with the Skylark, now that she has been so thoroughly whipped," added the commodore's father.
"Perfectly satisfied with her, father. She is as good a boat as she ever was," answered Robert, as he gave his hand to Donald. "You have won the race fairly and handsomely, Don John; and I congratulate you upon your success."
"I thank you, Bob; but I would rather have beaten any other fellow than you," replied Donald.
"I can stand it as well as anybody."
The ladies and gentlemen on board of the Penobscot congratulated the hero of the occasion, and condoled with the commodore, till the last of the fleet arrived. The judges filled out the schedule with the corrected time.
"Captain Rodman, of the Maud," said the chairman; and the owner of the winning yacht stepped forward. "It appears from the schedule that you have made the shortest time, and I have the pleasure of presenting to you the first prize."
"Thank you, sir," replied Rodman, accepting the envelope, which contained the prize of one hundred dollars; "but as it appears that Donald Ramsay sailed the Maud, as well as built her, I shall have the pleasure of presenting it to him."
A round of hearty applause followed this little speech, which ended in three cheers for the captain of the Maud, and three more for her builder.
"I can't take that," said Donald, declining to receive the envelope.
"But you must take it. I will hand you over to Mr. Deputy Sheriff Beardsley, who, I see, is coming up the bay in the Juno."
"It don't belong to me. I am not the owner of the Maud," protested Donald.
"Take it! take it!" shouted one and another of the interested spectators, until nearly all of them had expressed their opinion in this way.
Thus overborne, the boat-builder took the envelope, though his pride revolted.
"Commodore Montague, it appears that the Skylark made the next best time, and I have the pleasure of presenting to you the second prize."
"Which I devote to the club for the building fund."
The members heartily applauded this disposal of the money.
"I will give the other prize to the club for the same purpose," added Donald.
"Impossible!" exclaimed Commodore Montague. "The fund is completed, and the donation cannot be accepted."
"No! No!" shouted the members.
"The fifty dollars I added to the fund just makes up the sum necessary to pay for the club-house on Turtle Head, which is to be only a shanty; so you can't play that game on us, Don John."
Donald was compelled to submit; and he transferred the hundred dollars to his pocket-book.
"I am so glad you won the race, Don John!" said Nellie Patterdale. "Everybody said you sailed the Maud splendidly."
"Thank you, Nellie; your praise is worth more to me than that of all the others," replied Donald, blushing deeply; but I must do him the justice to say that, if he had not been laboring under intense excitement, he would not have made so palpable a speech to her.
Nellie blushed too; but she was not angry, though her father might have been, if he had heard the remark.
"Is Captain Patterdale on board?" shouted Mr. Beardsley, as the Juno ran under the stern of the Penobscot.
"Here," replied the captain.
"I want to see you and Don John," added the officer.
The business of the race was finished, and the Maud conveyed Captain Patterdale, his daughter, and Donald to the shore. Laud Cavendish was in the Juno, and so was Hasbrook; but none of the party knew what had transpired at Saturday Cove during the forenoon.
"I will be at your house in half an hour, Captain Patterdale," said Donald, as they landed. "I am wet to the skin, and I want to put on dry clothes."
Mr. Beardsley had proposed the place of meeting; and the boat-builder hastened home. In a few minutes he had put himself inside a dry suit of clothes. Then he went to the shop, and wrote a brief note to Captain Shivernock, in which he enclosed sixty dollars, explaining that as he had been unable to "keep still with his tongue," he could not keep the money. He also added, that he should send him the amount received for the Juno when he obtained the bills from Captain Patterdale, who had a part of them. Sealing this note in an envelope, he called at the house of the strange man, on his way to the place of meeting. Mrs. Sykes said that Captain Shivernock was in his library.
"Please to give him this; and if he wishes to see me, I shall be at Captain Patterdale's house for an hour or two," continued Donald; and without giving the housekeeper time to reply, he hastened off, confident there would be a storm as soon as the eccentric opened the note.
In the library of the elegant mansion, he found the party who had been in the Juno, with Captain Patterdale and Nellie. On the desk was the tin box, the paint on the outside stained with yellow loam. Laud Cavendish looked as though life was a burden to him, and Donald readily comprehended the situation.
"We have found the tin box," said Mr. Beardsley, with a smile, as the boat-builder was admitted.
"Where did you find it?"
"Laud had it in his hand down at Saturday Cove. While I was looking up the Hasbrook affair, our friend here landed from the Juno, and was walking towards the woods, when he walked into me. He owns up to everything."
"Then I hope you are satisfied that I had nothing to do with the box."
"Of course we are," interposed Captain Patterdale. "It certainly looked bad for you at one time, Don John."
"I know it did, sir," added Donald.
"But I could not really believe that you would do such a thing," said the captain.
"I knew he wouldn't," exclaimed Nellie.
"Laud says he buried the box on Turtle Head, just where you said, and only removed it yesterday, when he put the notes under the sill in your shop," continued Mr. Beardsley.
"What did you do that for, Laud?" asked Donald, turning to the culprit.
"You promised not to tell where I got the money to pay for the Juno. You went back on me," pleaded Laud.
"I told you I wouldn't tell if everything was all right. When it appeared that the mended bill was not all right, I mentioned your name, but not till then."
"That is so," added the nabob. "Now, Laud, did Captain Shivernock pay you any money?"
"No, sir," replied Laud, who had concluded to tell the whole truth, hoping it would go easier with him if he did so.
"Where did you get the mended bill you paid Don John?"
"From the tin trunk."
"Why did you say that Captain Shivernock gave you the money you paid for the Juno?"
"I couldn't account for it in any other way. I knew the captain threw his money around very loosely, and I didn't think any one would ask him if he gave me the money. If any one did, he wouldn't answer."
"But he did answer, and said he gave you the money."
"He told me he would say so, when I went to see him a fortnight ago."
"Why did you go to see him?"
Laud glanced at Donald with a faint smile on his haggard face.
"Don John told me Captain Shivernock had a secret he wanted to keep."
"I told you so!" exclaimed Donald.
"You did; but you thought I knew the secret," answered Laud. "You told me the captain had given me the money not to tell that I had seen him near Saturday Cove on the morning after the Hasbrook affair."
"I remember now," said Donald. "Captain Shivernock gave me sixty dollars, and then gave me the Juno, for which I understood that I was not to say I had seen him that day. I refused to sell the boat to Laud till he told me where he got the money. When he told me the captain had given it to him, and would not say what for, I concluded his case was just the same as my own. After I left the captain, he stood over to the Northport shore, and Laud went over there soon after. I was sure that they met."
"We didn't meet; and I did not see Captain Shivernock that day," Laud explained.
"I supposed he had; I spoke to Laud just as though he had, and he didn't deny that he had seen him."
"Of course I didn't. Don John made my story good, and I was willing to stick to it."
"But you did not stick to it," added the nabob. "You said you had paid no money to Don John."
"I will tell you how that was. When I got the secret out of Don John, I went to the captain with it. He asked me if I wanted to black-mail him. I told him no. Then I spoke to him about the tin trunk you had lost, and said one of the bills had been traced to me. I made up a story to show where I got the bill; but the man that gave it to me had gone, and I didn't even know his name. He had some bills just like that mended one; and when I told him what my trouble was, he promised to say that he had given me the bill; and then he laughed as I never saw a man laugh before."
"What was he laughing at?" asked the sheriff.
"He went off early the next morning, and I suppose he was laughing to think what a joke he was playing upon me, for he was not to be in town when wanted to get me out of trouble."
"He did say he let you have the use of the Juno for taking care of her, and that he gave you the money, though he wouldn't indicate what it was for," added the officer.
"I thought he was fooling me, and I didn't depend on him."
"That's Captain Shivernock," said the good nabob, as the party in the library were startled by a violent ring at the door.
It was the strange man. He was admitted by Nellie. He stalked up to Donald, his face red with wrath, and dashed the letter and bills into his face, crumpled up into a ball.
"You canting little monkey! What have you been doing?" roared he.
"Since I could not do what you wished me to do, I have returned your money," replied Donald, rising from his chair, for he feared the captain intended to assault him.
"Have you disobeyed my orders, you whelp?"
"I have; for I told you I should tell no lies."
"I'll break every bone in your body for this!" howled Captain Shivernock.
"Not yet, captain," interposed Mr. Beardsley. "You may have something else to break before you do that job."
"Who are you?" demanded the wicked nabob, with what was intended as a withering sneer; but no one wilted under it.
"A deputy sheriff of Waldo County, at your service; and I have a warrant for your arrest."
"For my arrest!" gasped Captain Shivernock, dismounting from his high horse, for he had a wholesome fear of the penalties of violated law.
"Here is the document," added the sheriff, producing a paper.
"For breaking and entering in the night time, in the first place, and for an aggravated assault on Jacob Hasbrook in the second."
"What assault? You can't prove it."
"Yes, we can; we went a-fishing down in Saturday Cove this morning, and we caught a bundle, containing a pair of boots, a blue frock, and other articles, including the stick the assault was committed with. They were sunk with half a pig of lead, the other half of which I found in the Juno. I hope you are satisfied."
"No, I'm not. I didn't leave my house till four o'clock that morning; and I can prove it."
"You will have an opportunity to do so in court."
The wicked nabob was silent.
"I was bound to follow this thing up to the bitter end," said Hasbrook, rejoiced at the detection of the wretch.
"You got what you deserved, you miserable, canting villain!" roared the captain. "You cheated me out of a thousand dollars, by giving me an indorser you knew wasn't worth a dollar."
"But I meant to pay you. I pay my debts. I appeal to Captain Patterdale to say whether I do or not."
"I think you do when it is for your interest to do so, or when you can't help it," added the good nabob, candidly. "I suppose you know Mr. Laud Cavendish, captain?"
"I do," growled the rich culprit. "He is the fellow that saved a man's life down at Haddock Ledge; a man he hadn't been introduced to, who gave him a pile of money for the job, but didn't give him his name."
"But, Captain Shivernock, you said you gave him some money, and you didn't tell us what you gave it to him for," added Beardsley.
"That was my joke."
"We do not see the point of it."
"I only wanted the privilege of proving to Captain Patterdale that he was mistaken about the bill, by showing him three more just like it."
"How do you fold your money, Captain Shivernock?" asked the nabob.
"None of your business, you canting psalm-singer."
"I shall be obliged to commit you," said the sheriff, sharply.
"Commit me!" howled the wicked nabob. "I should like to see you do it."
"You shall have that satisfaction. If you give me any trouble about it, I shall have to put these things on," added the sheriff, taking from his pocket a pair of handcuffs.
The culprit withered at the sight of the irons. He and Laud both walked to the county jail, where they were locked up. Of course the imprisonment of such a man as the wicked nabob caused a sensation; but there was no one to object. He was willing to pay any sum of money to get out of the scrape; but the majesty of the law must be vindicated, and there was a contest between money and justice. He obtained bail by depositing the large amount required in the hands of two men, whom his well-fed lawyer procured. Between two days he left the city; but Beardsley kept the run of him, and when he was wanted for trial, he was brought back from a western state.
On the trial a desperate attempt was made to break down the witnesses; but it failed. The first for the defence was Mrs. Sykes; but her evidence was not what had been expected of her. She had told, and repeated the lie, that the captain left his house at four o'clock on the morning after the outrage; but in court, and under oath, she would not perjure herself. She declared that the defendant had left home about eleven o'clock in the evening, dressed in her husband's blue frock, boots, and hat. Mr. Sykes, after his wife had told the whole truth, was afraid to testify as he had said he should do. A conviction followed; and the prisoner was sentenced to the state prison for ten years. He was overwhelmed by this result. He swore like a pirate, and then he wept like a child; but he was sent to Thomaston, and put to hard work.
Laud pleaded guilty, and was sent to the same institution for a year. There was hope of him; for if he could get rid of his silly vanity, and go to work, he might be saved from a lifetime of crime.
Donald came out of the fire without the stain of smoke upon him. After the great race, as Mr. Norwood was in no hurry for the Alice, he went on the long cruise with the fleet, in the Sea Foam. They coasted along the shore as far as Portland, visiting the principal places on the seaboard. On the cruise down Donald "coached" his friend, Ned Patterdale, in the art of sailing; and on the return he rendered the same service to Rodman. Both of them proved to be apt scholars; and after long practice, they were able to bring out the speed of their yachts, and stood a fair chance in a regatta.
On the cruise, the yachts were racing all the time when under way, but the results were by no means uniform. When Donald sailed the Maud, she beat the Skylark; but when Rodman skippered her himself, the commodore outsailed him. The Maud beat the Sea Foam, as a general rule; but one day Robert Montague sailed the latter, and the former was beaten.
"Don John, I don't know yet which is the fastest craft in the fleet," said Commodore Montague, as they were seated on Manhegan Island, looking down upon the fleet anchored below them.
"I thought you did, Bob," laughed Donald.
"No, I don't. I have come to the conclusion that you can sail a yacht better than I can, and that is the reason that you beat me in the Maud, as you did in the Sea Foam."
"No, no!" replied Donald. "I am sure I can't sail a boat any better than you can."
"I can outsail any boat in the fleet when you are ashore."
"We can easily settle the matter, Bob."
"You shall sail the Maud, and I will sail the Skylark. If the difference is in the skippers, we shall come in about even. If the Maud is the better sailer, you will beat me."
"Good! I'll do it."
"You will do your best in the Maud—won't you?"
"Certainly; and you will do the same in the Skylark."
"To be sure. We will sail around Matinicus Rock and back."
The terms of the race were agreed upon, and the interest of the whole club was excited. The party went on board the fleet, and the two yachts were moored in line. At the firing of the gun on board the Sea Foam, they ran up their jibs and got a good start. The wind was west, a lively breeze, but not heavy. Each yacht carried her large gaff-topsail and the balloon-jib. The course was about forty miles, the return from the rock being a beat dead to windward. Robert and Donald each did his best, and the Maud came in twelve minutes ahead of the Skylark.
"I am satisfied now," said Robert, when they met after the race.
"I was satisfied before," laughed Donald. "I was confident the Maud was faster than the Skylark or the Sea Foam."
"I agree with you now; and I have more respect for myself than I had before, for I thought it was you, and not the Maud, which had beaten me," added Robert. "I have also a very high respect for the firm of Ramsay & Son."
The members of the club enjoyed the excursion exceedingly; and on their return it was decided to repeat it the next year, if not before. The club-house on Turtle Head was finished when the fleet arrived at Belfast; and during the rest of the vacation, the yachts remained in the bay. They had chowders and fries at the Head, to which the ladies were invited; and Donald made himself as agreeable as possible to Miss Nellie on these occasions. Possibly her father and mother had some objections to this continued and increasing intimacy; if they had, they did not mention them. They were compelled to acknowledge, when they talked the matter over between themselves, that Donald Ramsay was an honest, intelligent, noble young man, with high aims and pure principles, and that these qualifications were infinitely preferable to wealth without them; and they tacitly permitted the affair to take its natural course, as I have no doubt it will. Certainly the young people were very devoted to each other; and though they are too young to think of anything but friendship, it will end in a wedding.
In the autumn, after the frame of the Alice was all set up, Barbara obtained a situation as a teacher in one of the public schools, and added her salary to the income of the boat-builder. The family lived well, and were happy in each other. After the boating season closed, the yacht club hired apartments, in which a library and reading-room were fitted up; and the members not only enjoyed the meetings every week, but they profited by their reading and their study. Donald is still an honored and useful member, and people say that, by and by, when the country regains her mercantile marine, he will be a ship-builder, and not, as now, THE YOUNG BOAT-BUILDER.
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Australian Wanderers. The Adventures of Capt. Spencer and his Horse and Dog in the Wilds of Australia.
Antonio in the Wilds of Africa.
Anecdotes of Animals, with their Habits, Instincts, &c., &c.
Anecdotes of Birds, Fishes, Reptiles, &c., their Habits and Instincts.
A Thousand Miles' Walk Across South America, over the Pampas and the Andes.
Little People of God, and what the Poets have said of them. By Mrs. George L. Austin. 4to. Illustrated. 2.00
Frontier Series, The. Five volumes. Illustrated. Per vol. 1.25
Twelve Nights in the Hunters' Camp. A Thousand Miles' Walk Across South America. The Cabin on the Prairie. Planting the Wilderness. The Young Pioneers of the Northwest.
Helping Hand Series. By May Mannering. Complete in six vols. Illustrated. Per volume. 1.00
Climbing the Rope. Billy Grimes's Favorite. The Cruise of the Dashaway. The Little Spaniard. Salt-water Dick. Little Maid of Oxbow. An entirely new edition.
Cast Away in the Cold. An Old Man's Story of a Young Man's Adventures. By Dr. Isaac I. Hayes. 1 volume. Illustrated. 1.25
Vacation Story-Books. For Boys and Girls. Finely Illustrated from designs by Hoppin and others. Six volumes, square 16mo. In neat box. Per volume 80
Worth not Wealth. Country Life. The Charm. Karl Keigler. Walter Seyton. Holidays at Chestnut Hill.
Winwood Cliff Stories. By the Rev. Daniel Wise, D.D., author of the "Glen Morris Stories." To be completed in six volumes. Per volume 1.00
Winwood Cliff; or, Oscar, The Sailor's Son. Ben Blinker; or, Maggie's Golden Motto, and what it did for her Brother. A new volume in Press.
Young Trail-Hunters' Series, The. By Samuel Woodworth Cozzens. 12mo. Per vol. 1.00
Young Silver Seekers, The; or, Hal and Ned in Sonora. (In press.)
Crossing the Quicksands; or, The Veritable Adventures of Hal and Ned upon the Pacific Slope. 16mo. Illustrated. 317 pp. 1.00
The Young Trail-Hunters; or, The Wild Riders of the Plains. 12mo. Illustrated. 205 pp. 1.00
Battles at Home. By Mary G. Darling. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.00
In the World. By Mary G. Darling. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.00
Golden Hair. A Story of the Pilgrims. By Sir Lascelles Wraxhall, Bart. 12mo. Illustrated. 1.00
Snip and Whip, and some other Boys. By Elizabeth A. Davis. 16mo. Cloth. Illustrated. 1.25
Sunnybank Stories. Twelve volumes. Compiled by Rev. Asa Bullard, editor of the "Well-Spring." Profusely Illustrated. 32mo. Bound in high colors, and put in a neat box. Per volume 25
Uncle Henry's Stories. Dog Stories. Stories for Alice. My Teacher's Gem. The Scholar's Welcome. Going to School. Aunt Lizzie's Stories. Mother's Stories. Grandpa's Stories. The Good Scholar. The Lighthouse. Reward of Merit.
Sunnybank Stories. Six volumes. Compiled by Rev. Asa Bullard. Profusely Illustrated. 32mo. Bound in high colors, and put up in a neat box. Per volume 25
Uncle Henry's Stories. Dog Stories. Stories for Alice. Aunt Lizzie's Stories. Mother's Stories. Grandpa's Stories.
Shady Dell Stories. Six volumes. Compiled by Rev. Asa Bullard, editor of the "Well-Spring." Profusely Illustrated. 32mo. Bound in high colors, and put up in a neat box (to match the Sunnybank Stories). Per volume 25
My Teacher's Gem. The Scholar's Welcome. Going to School. The Good Scholar. The Lighthouse. Reward of Merit.
Tone Masters, The. A Musical Series for the Young. By the author of "The Soprano," &c. 16mo. Illustrated. Per volume 1.25
Mozart and Mendelssohn. Handel and Haydn. Bach and Beethoven.
Twilight Stories. By Mrs. Follen. Twelve volumes. 4to. Illustrated. Per volume 50
Travellers' Stories. True Stories about Dogs. Made-Up Stories. Peddler of Dust Sticks. When I was a Girl. Who speaks Next? The Talkative Wig. What Animals do and say. Two Festivals. Conscience. Piccolissima. Little Songs.
Maidenhood Series. 12mo. Illustrated.
Seven Daughters. By Miss A. M. Douglas. 1.50 Running to Waste: The Story of a Tomboy. By Geo. M. Baker. 1.50 Our Helen. By Sophie May. 1.75 That Queer Girl. By Virginia F. Townsend. 1.50 The Asbury Twins. By Sophie May. 1.75 Daisy Travers; or, The Girls of Hive Hall. By Adelaide F. Samuels. 1.50
Amateur Drama Series. By Geo. M. Baker. 6 volumes. Illustrated. Per vol. 1.50
Amateur Dramas. The Mimic Stage. The Social Stage. The Drawing-Room Stage. The Exhibition Drama. Handy Dramas.
Eminent Statesmen. The Young American's Library of Eminent Statesmen. Uniform with the Young American's Library of Famous Generals. Six volumes, handsomely illustrated, in neat box. (New edition.) Per volume 1.25
Benjamin Franklin. Daniel Webster. Daring Deeds. William Penn. Henry Clay. Noble Deeds.
Famous Generals. The Young American's Library of Famous Generals. A useful and attractive series of books for Boys. Six volumes, handsomely illustrated, in neat box. (New edition.) Per vol. 1.25
General Washington. General Taylor. General Jackson. General Lafayette. General Marion. Napoleon Bonaparte.
Springdale Stories. By Mrs. S. B. C. Samuels. Six volumes. Illustrated. Per volume 75
Obeying the Golden Rule. The Shipwrecked Girl. Nettie's Trial. The Smuggler's Cave. Under the Sea. The Burning Prairie.
Charley Roberts Series. By Miss Louise M. Thurston. To be completed in six volumes. Per vol. 1.00
How Charlie Roberts became a Man. How Eva Roberts gained her Education. Home in the West. Children of Amity Court.
Crusoe Library. An attractive series for Young and Old. Six volumes. Illustrated. In neat box. Per vol. 1.50
Robinson Crusoe. Arabian Nights. Arctic Crusoe. Young Crusoe. Prairie Crusoe. Willis the Pilot.
Dick and Daisy Series. By Miss Adelaide F. Samuels. Four volumes. Illustrated. Per vol. 50
Adrift in the World; or, Dick and Daisy's Early Days. Fighting the Battle; or, Dick and Daisy's City Life. Saved from the Street; or, Dick and Daisy's Proteges. Grandfather Milly's Luck; or, Dick and Daisy's Reward.
Dick Travers Abroad Series. By Miss Adelaide F. Samuels. Four volumes. Illustrated. Per vol. 50
Little Cricket; or, Dick Travers in London. Palm Land; or, Dick Travers in the Chagos Islands. The Lost Tar; or, Dick Travers in Africa. On the Wave; or, Dick Travers aboard the Happy Jack. The Turning of the Tide; or, Radcliffe Rich and his Patients. Winning his Spurs; or, Henry Morton's First Trial.
Girlhood Series, The. Comprising six volumes, 12mo. Illustrated. 1.50
An American Girl Abroad. By Miss Adeline Trafton. The Doctor's Daughter. By Sophie May. Sallie Williams, The Mountain Girl. By Mrs. E. D. Cheney. Only Girls. By Virginia F. Townsend. Lottie Eames; or, Do Your Best, and Leave the Rest. Rhoda Thornton's Girlhood. By Mrs. Mary E. Pratt.
BY J. T. TROWBRIDGE.
His Own Master. 16mo. Cloth. Illustrated. (In press.) 1.25
Bound in Honor; or, Boys will be Boys. 16mo. Cloth. Illustrated. 1.25
* * * * *
Alden Series. By Joseph Alden, D.D. 4 vols. Illustrated. Per vol. 50
The Cardinal Flower. The Lost Lamb. Henry Ashton. The Light-hearted Girl.
Baby Ballad Series. (In press.) Three volumes. Illustrated. 4to. Per vol. 1.00
Baby Ballads. By Uno. Little Songs. By Mrs. Follen. New Songs for Little People. By Mrs. Anderson.
Beckoning Series. By Paul Cobden. To be completed in six volumes. Illustrated. Per vol. 1.25
Who will Win? Going on a Mission. The Turning Wheel. Good Luck. Take a Peep. (Another in preparation.)
Blue Jacket Series. Six vols. 12mo. Illustrated. Per vol. 1.50
Swiss Family Robinson. Willis the Pilot. The Prairie Crusoe. Gulliver's Travels. The Arctic Crusoe. The Young Crusoe.
Celesta Stories, The. By Mrs. E. M. Berry. 16mo. Illustrated. Per vol. 1.00
Celesta. The Crook Straightened. Crooked and Straight.
* * * * *
Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
Illustration, "Linconville" changed to "Lincolnville" (News from Lincolnville) (page 113)
Page 118, "too" changed to "took" (as he took)
Page 129, "arn't" changed to "aren't" (aren't you, Don)
Page 184, "filled" changed to "filed" (rebuff, filed away)
Page 225, (between 224-225) Illustration caption was cropped and page number is presumed.
Page 258, "happpened" changed to "happened" (he happened to)
Page 264, "hsmself" changed to "himself" (himself by his)
Page 290, "indentify" changed to "identify" (can identify the one)
Page 334, "well-feed" changed to "well-fed" (his well-fed lawyer)
Page 336, "Manheigan" changed to "Manhegan" (on Manhegan Island)
Page 338, "run" changed to "ran" (they ran up)
Advertising, the prices for: Riverdale Stories, Riverdale Story Books, and Flora Lee Story Books were omitted in the original text.
Dick and Daisy Series: "proteges" changed to "Proteges" (Dick and Daisy's Proteges)
Yacht Club Series: "Builders" changed to "Builder" (Young Boat Builder)