The Depot Master Part 4

"Wait a minute, Sim," said the depot master. Then he turned to his a.s.sistant.

"Issy," he said, "this is about the nineteenth time you've done just this sort of thing. You're no earthly use and I ought to give you your clearance papers. But I can't, you're too--well--ornamental. You've got to be punished somehow and I guess the best way will be to send you right up to Major Hardee's and let you give him the remnants. He'll want to know how it happened, and you tell him the truth. The TRUTH, understand? If you invent any fairy tales out of those novels of yours I'll know it by and by and--well, YOU'LL know I know. No remarks, please. Git!"

Issy hesitated, seemed about to speak, thought better of it, took up package and cap, and "got."

"Let's see," said the Captain, sitting down in one of the station chairs and lighting a fresh cigar; "where was Williams and I in that yarn of mine? Oh, yes, I could see land and cal'lated we was goin' to b.u.mp.

Well, we did. Steerin' anyways but dead ahead was out of the question, and all I could do was set my teeth and trust in my bein' a member of the church. The Shootin' Star hit that beach like she was the real article. Overboard went oar and canvas and grub pails, and everything else that wa'n't nailed down, includin' Fatty and me. I grabbed him by the collar and wallowed ash.o.r.e.

"'Awk! hawk!' he gasps, chokin', 'I'm drownded.'

"I let him BE drownded, for the minute. I had the launch to think of, and somehow or 'nother I got hold of her rodin' and hauled the anchor up above tide mark. Then I attended to my pa.s.senger.

"'Where are we?' he asks.

"I looked around. Close by was nothin' but beach-gra.s.s and seaweed and sand. A little ways off was a clump of scrub pines and bayberry bushes that looked sort of familiar. And back of them was a little board shanty that looked more familiar still. I rubbed the salt out of my eyes.

"'WELL!' says I. 'I swan to man!'

"'What is it?' he says. 'Do you know where we are? Whose house is that?'

"I looked hard at the shanty.

"'Humph!' I grunted. 'I do declare! Talk about a feller's comin' back to his own. Whose shanty is that? Well, it's mine, if you want to know.

The power that looks out for the lame and the lazy has hove us ash.o.r.e on Woodchuck Island, and that's a piece of real estate I own.'

"It sounds crazy enough, that's a fact; but it was true. Woodchuck Island is a little mite of a sand heap off in the bay, two mile from sh.o.r.e and ten from the nighest town. I'd bought it and put up a shanty for a gunnin' shack; took city gunners down there, once in a while, the fall before. That summer I'd leased it to a friend of mine, name of Darius Baker, who used it while he was lobsterin'. The gale had driven us straight in from sea, 'way past Sandy P'int and on to the island.

'Twas like hittin' a nail head in a board fence, but we'd done it. Shows what Providence can do when it sets out.

"I explained some of this to Williams as we waded through the sand to the shanty.

"'But is this Baker chap here now?' he asks.

"'I'm afraid not,' says I. 'The lobster season's about over, and he was goin' South on a yacht this week. Still, he wa'n't to go till Sat.u.r.day and perhaps--'

"But the shanty was empty when we got there. I fumbled around in the tin matchbox and lit the kerosene lamp in the bracket on the wall. Then I turned to Williams.

"'Well,' says I, 'we're lucky for once in--'

"Then I stopped. When he went overboard the water had washed off his hat. Likewise it had washed off his long black hair--which was a wig--and his head was all round and shiny and bald, like a gull's egg out in a rain storm."

"I knew he wore a wig," interrupted Phinney.

"Of course you do. Everybody does now. But he wa'n't such a prophet in Israel then as he's come to be since, and folks wa'n't acquainted with his personal beauties.

"'What are you starin' at?' he asks.

"I fetched a long breath. 'Nothin',' says I. 'Nothin'.'

"But for the rest of that next ha'f hour I went around in a kind of daze, as if MY wig had gone and part of my head with it. When a feller has been doin' a puzzle it kind of satisfies him to find out the answer.

And I'd done my puzzle.

"I knew where I'd met Mr. Williams afore."

"You did?" cried Simeon.

"Um-hm. Wait a while. Well, Fatty went to bed, in one of the hay bunks, pretty soon after that. He stripped to his underclothes and turned in under the patchwork comforters. He was too beat out to want any supper, even if there'd been any in sight. I built a fire in the rusty cook stove and dried his duds and mine. Then I set down in the busted chair and begun to think. After a spell I got up and took account of stock, as you might say, of the eatables in the shanty. Darius had carted off his own grub and what there was on hand was mine, left over from the gunnin'

season--a hunk of salt pork in the pickle tub, some corn meal in a tin pail, some musty white flour in another pail, a little coffee, a little sugar and salt, and a can of condensed milk. I took these things out of the locker they was in, looked 'em over, put 'em back again and sprung the padlock. Then I put the key into my pocket and went back to my chair to do some more thinkin'.

"Next mornin' I was up early and when the banker turned out I was fryin'

a couple of slices of the pork and had some coffee b'ilin'. Likewise there was a pan of johnnycake in the oven. The wind had gone down consider'ble, but 'twas foggy and thick again, which was a pleasin'

state of things for yours truly.

"Williams smelt the cookin' almost afore he got his eyes open.

"'Hurry up with that breakfast,' he says to me. 'I'm hungry as a wolf.'

"I didn't say nothin' then; just went ahead with my cookin'. He got into his clothes and went outdoor. Pretty soon he comes back, cussin' the weather.

"'See here, Mr. Williams,' says I, 'how about them orders to your housekeeper? Are they straight? Won't she have you hunted up for a week?'

"He colored pretty red, but from what he said I made out that she wouldn't. I gathered that him and the old lady wa'n't real chummy. She give him his grub and her services, and he give her the Old Harry and her wages. She wouldn't hunt for him, not until she was ordered to.

She'd be only too glad to have him out of the way.

"'Humph!' says I. 'Then I cal'late we'll enjoy the scenery on this garden spot of creation until the week's up.'

"'What do you mean?' says he.

"'Well,' I says, 'the launch is out of commission, unless it should rain gasoline, and at this time of year there ain't likely to be a boat within hailin' distance of this island; 'specially if the weather holds bad.'

"He swore a blue streak, payin' partic'lar attention to the housekeeper for her general stupidness and to me because I'd got him, so he said, into this sc.r.a.pe. I didn't say nothin'; set the table, with one plate and one cup and sa.s.ser and knife and fork, hauled up a chair and set down to my breakfast. He hauled up a box and set down, too.

"'Pa.s.s me that corn bread,' says he. 'And why didn't you fry more pork?'

"He was reachin' out for the johnnycake, but I pulled it out of his way.

"'Wait a minute, Mr. Williams,' says I. 'While you was snoozin' last night I made out a kind of manifest of the vittles aboard this shanty.

'Cordin' to my figgerin' here's scursely enough to last one husky man a week, let along two husky ones. I paid consider'ble attention to your preachin' yesterday and the text seemed to be to look out for number one. Now in this case I'm the one and I've got to look out for myself.

This is my shanty, my island, and my grub. So please keep your hands off that johnnycake.'

"For a minute or so he set still and stared at me. Didn't seem to sense the situation, as you might say. Then the red biled up in his face and over his bald head like a Fundy tide.

"'Why, you dummed villain!' he shouts. 'Do you mean to starve me?'

"'You won't starve in a week,' says I, helpin' myself to pork. 'A feller named Tanner, that I read about years ago, lived for forty days on cold water and nothin' else. There's the pump right over in the corner. It's my pump, but I'll stretch a p'int and not charge for it this time.'

"'You--you--' he stammers, shakin' all over, he was so mad. 'Didn't I hire you--'

"'You hired me to take you out to the fishin' grounds and back, provided the launch was made ready by YOU. It wa'n't ready, so THAT contract's busted. And you was to furnish your extrys and I was to furnish mine.

Here they be and I need 'em. It's as legitimate a deal as ever I see; perfect case of supply and demand--supply for one and demand for two. As I said afore, I'm the one.'