My Brave and Gallant Gentleman Part 31

Had I only known, how I could have defended myself against, and lashed out in return at, that tantalising, self-possessed, wit-battling, and, despite it all, extremely feminine young lady!

They left my place and went over to their own bungalow. Soon they reappeared with large sun-hats on their heads, for the sun was beautifully bright and exceedingly warm. They went down to the beach together. The elderly lady got into the rowing boat, while my late antagonist pushed it into the water and sprang into it with a most astounding agility. In a few moments, they were out on the Bay.

Miss Grant,--as I remembered her name was,--handled the oars like an Oxford stroke and with that amazing ease, attained only after long practice, which makes the onlooker, viewing the finished article in operation, imagine that he can do it as well himself, if not a shade or so better,--yes! and standing on his head at that.

For an hour, I worked in the store righting the wrongs that were visible everywhere, vowing to myself that never again would it be found in such a disgraceful condition; not even if the three Camps should come down together and insist on immediate service.

At high noon, I went over to Jake's shack and found him preparing his usual clammy concoction.

I broached the subject of the piano to him, putting it in such a way that I left him open to refuse to do the job if he felt so inclined.

He did not speak for a minute or two, but I knew he was thinking hard.

"Well,--I'll be gol-darned," he said at last. "They'll be transporting skating rinks and picture shows up here next. It'll be me for the tall timbers then, you bet."

A little later, he went on,

"Guess, George,--we got to do it, though. Young ladies is young ladies these days, and we might as well be civil and give in right at the start, for we got to do it in the finish."

I agreed.

As we were in a hurry, I helped Jake to eat his clam chowder. We went down to the beach to review the situation and inspect the apparatus we had to work with.

I told Jake the piano would probably weigh about five hundred pounds and that we would require to bolster up the raft sufficiently to carry some three hundred pounds more in order to be safe.

As it stood, the raft was capable of carrying some four hundred pounds, so we had just to double its capacity.

Jake knew his business. He rowed along the beach, and picked out short logs to suit his needs. He lashed them together and completed a raft that looked formidable enough to carry the good ship _Siwash_ herself across the Bay to the sh.o.r.e.

We put off with a rowing boat fore and aft, long before the _Siwash_ whistle announced her coming.

Had the sea been otherwise than calm as a duck pond, we would have experienced all kinds of trouble, for our raft was nothing more or less than an unwieldy floating pier.

When the steamer ran into the Bay, I noticed Miss Grant put out alone and row toward us.

"Jake," I exclaimed somewhat hotly, "if that young lady interferes with the way we handle this job, by as much as a single word, we'll steer straight for the sh.o.r.e and leave the piano to sink or swim."

"You bet!" agreed Jake.

"Skirts is all right, but they ain't any good movin' pianners off'n steamers. Guess we ain't proved ourselves much good neither, so far, George," he added with a grin.

The _Siwash_ came to a standstill and we threw our ropes aboard and were soon made fast alongside.

Everything there went like clockwork. The piano was on the lower deck and slings were already round it, so that all that was necessary to do was to get the steamer's winch going, hoist the instrument overboard and lower it on to the raft. The piano was set on a low truck with runners, contrived for the purpose of moving. I arranged that this truck be left with us and I would see to its return on the steamer's south-bound journey.

Our chiefest fear was that the piano might get badly placed or that the balance of the raft might prove untrue, the whole business would topple over and the piano would be dispensing nautical airs to the mermaids at the bottom of Golden Crescent Bay.

Jake's work stood the test valiantly, and, with the hooks and rings he had fixed into the logs at convenient distances, we lashed the instrument so firmly and securely that nothing short of a hurricane or a collision could possibly have dislodged it.

Miss Grant stood by some fifteen yards away, watching the proceedings interestedly, and anxiously as I thought; but not a word did she utter to show that she had anything but absolute confidence in our ability.

Finally, they cast our ropes off, and Jake and I, with our four oars, manned our larger rowing boat and headed for sh.o.r.e. It was hard pulling, but we ran in on the off side of the wharf, directly in line with the rocks at the back of which Miss Grant's bungalow was built,--all without mishap.

Despite the great help of the piano-truck, Jake and I, strive as we liked, were unable to move the heavy piece of furniture from the raft.

We tugged, and pulled, and hoisted, but to no purpose, for the wheels of the truck got set continually between the logs.

Once, I went head over heels backward into the water; and once Jake tripped over a cleat and did likewise.

"All we need, Jake," I remarked, "is about one hundred and fifty pounds more leverage."

Miss Grant heard and jumped out of her boat.

"Mr.--Mr. Bremner,--could I lend you that extra hundred and fifty pounds or so?"

I looked at her. She was all willingness and meekness; the latter a mood which I, even with my scant knowledge of her, did not altogether believe in.

"Sure, miss," put in Jake. "Come on, if you ain't skeered o' soilin'

your glad rags."

She waited for my word.

"I am sure your help would be valuable, Miss Grant," I said. "It might just turn the trick in our favour."

She scrambled up the rock and returned in half a minute with a pair of stout leather gloves on her hands. She jumped up on to the raft and lent her leverage, as Jake and I got our shoulders under the lift.

Bravo! It lifted as easily as if it had been a toy. All it had required was that little extra aid.

We three ran it clear of the raft, down on to the beach, over the pebbles and right under the rocks.

I knew, in the ordinary course, that our troubles would only be beginning, but I had figured out that the only possible way to get over this difficulty of the rocks was to erect a block and tackle to the solid branch of a tree which, fortunately, overhung the face of the cliffs.

In half an hour, we had all secure and ready for the attempt.

I worked the gear, while Jake did the guiding from below.

When we had the piano safely swung, it took our combined strength and weight to bring it in on top of the rocks. After that, it was simply a matter of hard work.

So, in three hours after receiving it from the steamer _Siwash_, the piano was out of its casing and set safely, without a scratch on it, in a corner of Miss Grant's parlour.

Jake and I never could have done it ourselves. Both of us knew that.

It was Miss Grant's untiring a.s.sistance that pulled the matter to a successful conclusion.

She thanked us without ostentation, as she would have thanked a piano-mover or the woodman in the city.

It nettled me not a little, for, to say truth, I was half dead from the need of a cup of good strong tea and my appet.i.te gnawed over the odour of home-made scones that the elderly, rotund lady was baking on Miss Grant's kitchen stove. All day I had been picturing visions of being invited to remain for tea, of my making witty remarks under Jake's mono-syllabic applause, looking over the photo alb.u.ms and listening in raptures to Miss Grant's playing and singing. And I was sour as old cider as I descended the veranda steps, soaking, as I was, with brine and perspiration.

Jake was perfectly happy, however, and all admiration over Miss Grant's physical demonstration.

"Gee! Miss," he exclaimed, in a sort of Klondike ecstasy, "but you're some cla.s.s at heavin' cargo. Guess, if you put on overalls and cut off your hair, you could get a fifty-cents-an-hour job at pretty near any wharf on the Pacific seaboard."