Jim Spurling, Fisherman Part 51

"Dad," spoke up Percy, "I want it. I've earned it. Look at those hands and arms. It's the first money I ever had that you didn't give to me.

I'm going to have one of the bills framed behind gla.s.s."

"He's earned it, fast enough," corroborated Jim. "Let him take it, Mr.

Whittington. We'll all feel better about it if you will."

So the millionaire gave his consent, with the mental reservation that in some way he would make it up to the others later.

"What are you going to do with all that wealth, Percy?" he asked. "It won't keep you very long in gasolene."

"Send half of it to Filippo for his brother Frank," replied Percy, promptly. "He lost about all he had when the _Barona_ was wrecked."

Later that afternoon Mr. Whittington took Jim aside out of Percy's hearing.

"Honestly, between us, how has the boy done this summer?"

"I wouldn't ask to have anybody take hold any better than he has since the middle of July."

The millionaire looked gratified.

"I'm more than pleased at the way things have turned out, and I don't know how I can ever repay you. Can't I help you somehow in money matters?"

Jim shook his head decidedly.

"No, thank you, Mr. Whittington. As I told you at the beginning of the summer, we're making our own way. Percy is ent.i.tled to every cent we've paid him, and I can honestly say we're glad he's been with us."

A half-hour afterward Mr. Whittington found his son alone.

"How about those college conditions, Percy?" he asked.

"Just finished my work on 'em before the wreck, Dad. I'm ready to take my exams the minute I strike college. It's been a hard pull, harder even than the fishing and lobstering, and it's kept me hustling; but I believe I've won out. Studying isn't so bad. All you've got to do is to make up your mind to get your lessons, and then get 'em."

"That's so in other things besides studying, Percy. You'll find it out later on."

"I guess I don't need to tell you," continued his son, "how much I owe to Jim Spurling and the others. They're the whitest bunch I ever ran with, and I wouldn't have missed my summer with them for anything."

"Something different from what you felt three months ago, eh, Percy?

Remember our talk at Graffam Academy, Commencement night?"

"Rather guess I do! And, believe me, I sha'n't forget it in a hurry. By the way, there's one fellow I owe a good deal to that I haven't told you about yet."

He related to his father the story of his two encounters with Jabe. The older man listened with grim but satisfied attention.

"Licked him at last, did you? If you hadn't, I should want you to look him up and do it now. It's a Whittington habit to carry through what you begin. Well, Percy, you've certainly made good."

A glimmer of pride, the first he had ever shown in his son, crossed his face.

"I blamed you for junking your auto. Now I've gone and junked a yacht that'll cost me more than fifty times as much. Well, there's no fool like the old fool! But it's been worth it."

He gave his son a look in which affection mingled with pride.

"It was quicksilver, kill or cure; and I'm mighty glad it's been cure."