CHAPTER XIII AN UNLOOKED-FOR FRIEND
Much sooner than he had ever dreamed would be the case, Alec had an opportunity to become an oyster merchant. But it was a sort of oyster business very different from any he had thought of. It was no trouble at all for Alec to secure the shells of additional shippers, for by this time Alec was favorably known to almost everybody at Bivalve. The story of his rescue of Hawley had drawn attention to him. And his modest demeanor, his cheerful way, and his general spirit of helpfulness, attracted every one who met him.
But more powerful than these influences was the fact that Captain Rumford stood behind him. If the captain said a thing would be done, every man at the oyster piers knew it would be done. And the captain was glad to speak to any fellow shipper whose shells Alec wanted, and guarantee their removal. Alec secured those from neighboring piers, so as to lessen the amount of work he would have to do. Nor was there much difficulty about this. The oyster shippers generally had been so dissatisfied with the uncertain manner of collecting shells that they were ready to adopt almost any plan which promised real improvement. So Alec speedily found himself with more shells engaged than he really knew how to handle.
Naturally he did not get shells away from the old collectors without gaining their enmity, too. They cursed him when they met him, and some even threatened him. Alec paid little attention to them; but he was too wise to disregard their threats altogether. He had had one experience with an enemy that nearly cost him his life, and he did not propose to be caught napping a second time. His work after dark made it especially easy for any one to harm him who so chose. So Alec went about with both eyes and both ears open.
One night he had finished collecting his shells and had just pulled into his dumping-ground, when a dark form stepped out of the marsh reeds and leaped aboard his boat. Instinctively Alec picked up his oar and prepared to defend himself. When he saw that the man was Hawley, he gripped the oar tighter than ever and made ready for a struggle. His heart began to beat like a pneumatic riveter, but he stood firm, and tried to appear unconcerned.
"Hello, youngster," said the giant sailor, advancing a step toward him. "You're getting a lot of trade, I see."
"Yes. More than I can handle."
"Exactly what I reckoned," replied Hawley. "Exactly what I reckoned."
Alec wondered why, if the man intended harm to him, he did not attack him at once. "He's just waiting to take me off my guard," he said to himself. Aloud he said, "The oyster business is pretty slack just now, and I can just manage to handle the shells. But I don't know what I would do if the shippers should have a rush of business. I guess I'd have to have help or else quit the Bertha B."
"Exactly what I reckoned," said Hawley. "Exactly what I reckoned. And I come to offer to help you."
Alec nearly tumbled over backward in his astonishment. "I'd like to have your help all right," he said, still eyeing Hawley distrustfully, "but I don't know how I'd pay you."
"Who said anything about pay?" asked Hawley.
"I don't exactly understand what you mean," said Alec. "Of course you'd want pay if you helped me, and, of course, I would expect to pay you. Nobody can afford to work for nothing."
"Exactly what I reckon," said Hawley. "But I've had my pay already. Now I want to earn it."
"I don't understand you."
The big oysterman stepped forward. Alec retreated and raised his oar. "Just stand back, will you?" he said.
"I don't blame you a bit for feelin' that way, seein' as how you never had no reason to trust me," replied Hawley, and he went back to the very bow of the boat. "But I don't mean you no harm, lad. I come to help you. Jim Hawley ain't no copperhead, even if you do have reason to think so. That wasn't Jim Hawley that chucked you into the river. It was old John Barleycorn. Jim Hawley ain't that sort of a feller. I'm done with John Barleycorn, and I want you to know the real Jim Hawley. I want to help you and it won't cost you a cent."
Alec was too much astonished for words. "It's mighty kind of you," he said, "but I couldn't accept any man's services without paying him for them."
"Come, come, lad, don't be foolish," urged the big sailor. "You need me a whole lot more than you think."
"I'd like to know how."
"Well, I didn't want to tell you this, lad. But I'd feel safer about you if I was around. You know them shell collectors you been gettin' shells away from don't love you any too much, and I don't like to think of you out here alone in the dark. It's been worryin' me."
"Worrying you! Why should you worry about me?"
Big Hawley hung his head. "I ain't had a decent night's sleep since I sobered up," he said. "Cap'n Bagley told me what an old villain I'd been and how fine you was about it, not wantin' me put in jail, and I says to myself, says I, 'If ever you touch another drop of booze, you're a worse scoundrel than even Bagley takes you for; and he thinks you're next to the devil.' So I quit drinkin'. Ain't touched a drop since, and ain't never goin' to touch another. But that didn't make it right with you. You done the finest thing I ever heard of when you went overboard after me, and I just can't sleep for worryin' how I'm goin' to make it up to you. So you see you've just got to let me help you with them shells."
Hawley's voice had grown husky and his eyes were actually moist before he stopped talking. There was no doubting his sincerity.
Alec threw down his oar and sprang toward him. "Don't you bother about that another minute," he said, holding out his hand, which the sailor pressed warmly. "I'm glad you are no longer angry at me, and that you want to be my friend. And if you really want to help with the shells, I'll be more than glad. But you must let me pay you when I am able."
"Now don't you ever say another word to me about pay," said Hawley, clearing his throat and seizing an oyster shovel. "We'll just consider the matter settled. And I'm much obliged to you. You've done me a mighty good turn. I won't have to worry no more about you out here in the darkness all alone." And he fell to shoveling oysters as fast as he could.
The winter continued open, and the fleet worked with unusual regularity. There were not many days when the weather was too rough for dredging. So the shells accumulated fast. In a little while Alec was able to buy his portable motor. With the aid of that and with Hawley to assist him, he could care for his shells in a very short time.
"It's almost too bad we don't have more shells," he said to Hawley one day.
"Git 'em!" said the sailor. "You kin. There ain't anybody round here won't give 'em to you if you ask, I reckon."
"I was willing to take old Pete's shells and a few more," said Alec, "but I wouldn't want to put the other collectors out of business."
"What's that to you? They'd put you out of business in a minute if they dared."
"Just the same, it doesn't seem fair. I can't adopt their standards. I've got to stick to my own."
Before many days elapsed, Alec had another opportunity to decide what standards he would follow. One of his competitors came to him and offered to pay him twenty-five cents a basket for the rattlers in his pile of shells.
"You'd be getting eight times as much for the rattlers as you would for the shells, and there'd likely be a basket or two a night in such a big pile of shells. That'd be twenty-five to fifty cents clear velvet every night."
Alec was suspicious. "What do you want them for?" he asked.
"To eat, of course. We can't make enough collecting shells to buy good oysters. These is all right, if we eat 'em soon."
"I'll think it over," said Alec.
When the man was gone, he saw at once the absurdity of the thing. There were only two or three shell collectors to eat the oysters. Only one of them had a family. With Alec's shells they would have access to all the shells in the place. If they could get a basket or two of rattlers from his shells, there must be a number of baskets among all the shells—several bushels in fact. It wouldn't be possible for them to eat all the oysters.
"There's something crooked about this," said Alec. Then he thought of what Hawley had told him of the enmity the other shell collectors had toward him. He decided to ask Hawley about the matter.
"Jim," he said, when he next saw his helper, "old Wallace offered to buy all our rattlers. Said he wanted them to eat. What do you suppose he's up to?"
"Don't know," replied Hawley, frowning, "but you can bet it ain't for no good purpose. Why, that old rip's so crooked he can't even walk straight. You just leave it to me. I'll find out about it."
Three nights later Hawley sought out Alec after the latter had tumbled into his bed on the Bertha B. "I know what them rips is up to," he said. "They're openin' their rattlers, treatin' 'em over-night in soda, and sellin' 'em in cans."
"They are!" cried Alec. "Selling them as Maurice River Cove oysters?"
"Surest thing you know."
"If they do much of that, they'll knock the oyster business into a cocked hat. Anybody that eats one of those things and sees the label 'Maurice River Cove Oysters,' will never want to taste another."
"Exactly what I reckon," said big Jim Hawley.
"I'll tell the shipper about this at once," said Alec.
He glanced at his watch. "Exactly nine-thirty," he said. "The captain will be listening to Pittsburgh if he's at home."
He turned to his wireless telephone, threw over his switch, and began to speak. "3ADH calling 3ARM," he called. There was no reply. Again he called.
Then his receivers began to vibrate. "3ARM answering 3ADH," came the message.
"Hello, Captain," he telephoned. "This is Alec. We have found something going on here that I want to tell you about at once. Can you come down?"
"Yes. Are you in a hurry?"
"No. Any time to-night will do."
"I'll come just as soon as this music's done. Good-bye."
An hour later the shipper, the skipper, Alec, and big Hawley were in conference in the cabin of the Bertha B. Next day Captain Rumford called a meeting of all the shippers at Bivalve. The conference decided to put an end at once to the existing system of shell collecting.
"We've had enough of this haphazard method," said one shipper. "Let us give all our shells to one man and hold him responsible for their proper collection and disposition. Then we shall not have to worry about our scows any longer, and there won't be any of this crooked work going on to ruin the oyster business. It seems to me we couldn't do better than to turn the whole shell business over to that young chap of Cap'n Rumford's. He's a clean, energetic boy, and he'll take care of the shells right. With all our shells to handle, there will be enough in it for him to give his entire time to it."
"And what do you think I'm going to do if you take away the best young fellow I ever had in my employ?" asked Captain Rumford.
"That's your lookout," said his fellow shipper. "The oystermen's association is just as keen to get a good man as you are to keep one."
Captain Rumford himself laid the proposition before Alec. The latter was dumfounded. "Give me twenty-four hours to think it over," he said.
It was a crisis in Alec's life. It was an opportunity and yet it was not the sort of opportunity he welcomed. It would take him away from the direct line he had marked out for himself. Then, too, if he became a shell collector only, he would have no money coming to him until the spring planting season, and he did not see how he could get along without some regular income. Finally, he was reluctant to leave the employ of Captain Rumford.
He had almost decided not to accept the offer, when he thought of Hawley. "Why, he could collect most of those shells himself, if he worked at it all day," thought Alec. "He can get around so fast with the little motor that he might be able to do it all himself. Now, how can we arrange it?"
He thought over the matter a long time. Before he fell asleep he had decided what to do. Next morning he sought Hawley on the latter's ship the instant he was up.
"Jim," he said, "the oystermen want me to take all their shells. I'd like to do it. There would be a nice profit in it, but I can't very well give up my job on the Bertha B and go to collecting shells on nothing a week. Now if you would go into partnership with me——"
"On nothing a week?" laughed the big sailor.
Alec joined in the laugh. "Looks as though that's what I want, doesn't it? But listen, Jim. Here's my plan. You stay here and handle the shells. I will be on hand to help you every afternoon. With the motor in our boat we can handle them all easily. I'll draw my pay on the Bertha B and give you ten dollars each week. That isn't much, but it will keep you until we sell the shells. Then you can repay me from your share of the proceeds. I've been figuring out how many we'll have, and there'll be enough to bring us both a good profit for all the time and money we put into it. What do you think of it?"
"If it will help you," said Hawley, "you just bet I'll do it."
"It'll help us both."
"Then that settles it. Here's to the new firm, 'Cunningham and Hawley, shell merchants.'"
And turning to the table, Hawley poured out drinks for them both. But it was only coffee.
"Shall we have a sign painted?" he laughed.