The Coming Wave Part 21

"But I know there is: I have been in boats before," protested Charley.

"If the ladies wish me to reef the mainsail, I will do so," said Leopold.

"O, no; don't, don't, Leopold!" cried Belle. "I think this is just lovely."

"Fun alive--isn't it?" chimed in Rosabel. "It would spoil it all to reef."

"If we only had a man with us, it would be another thing," groaned Mr.

Redmond, with a shudder, as the boat went down to her washboard again.

"I think I am strong enough to handle her," suggested Leopold.

"But you don't understand it," exclaimed the New Yorker, desperately.

"If you think you understand it any better than I do, I am willing to let you take my place," said the skipper, with a smile.

"O, no! don't let him! I should certainly be afraid then," cried Belle.

"I don't pretend to know anything about a boat; and I don't think you do," blubbered Charley, angrily.

"I think I can get along with her," added Leopold, pleasantly. "This is a quiet time compared with what I have seen out here in this boat."

Mr. Raymond continued to growl, and the girls continued to scream and "squeal" with delight when the sloop heeled over, and when the spray drenched their water-proofs. The Rosabel was at least five miles from the land, still making things very lively on board, when a large schooner was seen dead ahead.

"I've had enough of this thing," said Charley, clinging to the washboard behind him. "If you don't turn round, or lower one of the sails, I shall call for help from that vessel."

"What a simpleton you are!" exclaimed Belle; and her remarks were often much stronger than Rosabel could approve.

Leopold quietly put the helm up, and let off the sheets, so that the boat did not go within half a mile of the schooner. Half an hour later he put her about, and, with the wind on the quarter, stood in towards High Rock. Being almost before the wind, the Rosabel jumped, leaped, and "yawed" about more than ever; but she took in no more spray over her bow. She seemed to fly on her course, and Charley Redmond expected every moment to feel her go over. He held on with desperation, unnoticed now by the girls. In another half hour the sloop pa.s.sed into the calmer waters, sheltered by the high cliffs. Charley began to be brave again.

"You feel better--do you, Mr. Redmond?" said the laughing Belle.

"I feel well enough."

"You were afraid."

"Afraid--I? Not a bit of it; at least not for myself," replied the young gentleman. "The boatman don't understand his business. That's the whole of this thing."

"My father says he knows all about a boat; and he would trust him farther than he would most men," added Rosabel. "Didn't he take the Orion into the river in the fog?"

"He didn't manage the yacht: Captain Bounce was on board. I have been in boats before, and I think I can tell when a boatman knows his biz,"

replied Charley, confidently. "I wasn't at all concerned about myself; but I was afraid he would drown you girls. You were placed in my care--"

"Were we? Indeed! Didn't we invite you to come?" demanded Belle.

"If you did, of course it was my duty, as a gentleman, to look out for you. No; I wasn't a bit concerned about myself; but I was afraid for you."

"It was very kind of you to be afraid for us," sneered his fair tormentor. "It was very unselfish in you. I think I see you now, reckless of yourself, but trembling for our safety! I hope you will tell Leopold how to manage a boat!"

"I shall be glad to learn," laughed the skipper.

Leopold ran the sloop alongside a rock, which at this time of tide served as a wharf, and landed his party. Rosabel led the way to the Hole in the Wall, and they soon disappeared in the deep ravine. The skipper would have been very glad to go with them, but he was not invited to do so; and without this formality he was unwilling to do that which might possibly be deemed an intrusion. Rosabel wondered that he did not come with them, and would have been glad of his company; but as she did not feel herself above the boatman, it did not occur to her to ask him.

"That fellow was scared--wasn't he, Le?" said Stumpy, when they were alone.

"Of course he was. He is a regular spooney," replied the skipper. "If the girls hadn't been with us, I would have put him through a course of sprouts."

"He thinks he is a bigger man than the president of the United States.

You won't catch him in the Rosabel again."

"I don't want to catch him there."

"How long are they going to stay up there, Le?" asked Stumpy.

"They won't come down for a couple of hours yet."

"Then I can dig a bucket of clams while we are waiting," added Stumpy, as he took the shovel and a pail from the cuddy.

Leopold fastened the painter to the rocks, and followed his friend. The bucket was soon filled with clams, the largest and finest to be found on the coast, for they were seldom dug on this beach. In returning to the boat, they pa.s.sed quite near Coffin Rock, and of course Leopold could not help thinking of the hidden treasure in the sand. Stumpy, with the bucket of clams in his hand, led the way to the spot, not exactly with the approbation of his companion, who was afraid that the waters had not yet smoothed over the beach so as to conceal his recent operations.

"Come, Stumpy, ain't you going down to the boat?" asked Leopold, as he began to move in a different direction from that of his friend.

"No hurry--is there? _I_ want to go to the spring, and clean up a little," replied the clam-digger.

"Can't you do it down by the boat?" suggested the money-digger, who did not feel inclined to answer the questions which the disturbed state of the beach under Coffin Rock would put into the mouth of Stumpy.

"I never wash in salt water when I can get fresh. Besides I want a drink."

Without intending to be obstinate, Stumpy silently insisted upon having his own way, by directing his steps towards the springs, which flowed from the rocks not twenty feet from the hidden treasure. The pure water dropped from an overhanging cliff, in a kind of alcove in the precipice.

It was clear and cold, and on a warm day it was emphatically a luxury.

If the weather was not warm on the present occasion, Stumpy was, for he had been digging deep into the sand and mud of the beach. The water dropping from the spring had formed a deep pool under the cliff, which overflowed, and was discharged by a stream flowing down the sands into the ocean. In this stream Stumpy washed his face and hands, and then his feet, covered with the black mud which he had thrown up from under the sand at low tide.

Leopold sat down on a bowlder, some distance from the cliff, to wait for his companion. Stumpy seemed to be determined to do just what his friend did not want him to do, for, as soon as he had washed his feet, he walked directly out of the alcove to the spot under Coffin Rock, taking the clams and shovel with him.

"I say, Le, can't we get up a clam-bake for the girls?" said he, calling to the skipper in the distance.

"It won't pay," replied Leopold, walking to the place where Stumpy stood, exactly over the buried treasure.

"Why not? You said Miss Rosabel liked clams."

"It will take too long. We must get back to the hotel by dinner time."

"Just as you say; but if the girls like clams, it would be a treat to them; and this is just the place to do this thing."

"We haven't time to-day."

"All right," replied Stumpy, who seemed to be just then engaged in a survey of the locality. "What in the world were you doing here, Le?" he added. "This sand looks as though it had been all dug over."