"My story?" Roger looked him squarely in the eye. In Roger's own eyes there was the glint of his old humorous twinkle, and I knew that the young man's bustling self-importance amused him.
"My story?" Roger repeated. "Why, such a story as I have to tell, I'll tell your father when I report to him."
Young Webster reddened. "Oh!" he said with a sarcastic turn of his voice. "Stuff and nonsense! It may be—or it may not." And with that he stationed himself by the rail and said no more.
When at last we had come to anchor and young Webster had gone hastily ashore and we had exchanged greetings at a distance with a number of acquaintances, Roger and Mr. Cledd and I sat down—perhaps more promptly than need be—over our accounts in the great cabin. I felt bitterly disappointed that none of my own people had come to welcome me; but realizing how silly it was to think that they surely must know of our arrival, I jumped at Roger's suggestion that we gather up our various documents and then leave Mr. Cledd in charge—he was not a Salem man—and hurry home as fast as we could go.
As we bent to our work, Mr. Cledd remarked with a dry smile, "I'm thinking, sir, there's going to be more of a sting to this pirate-and-mutiny business than I'd believed. That smug, sarcastic young man means trouble or I've no eye for weather."
"He's the worst of all the Websters," Roger replied thoughtfully. "And I'll confess that Captain Craigie's story knocks the wind out of my canvas. Who'd have looked for a garbled story of our misfortunes to outsail us? However,—" he shook his head and brushed away all such anxieties,—"time will tell. Now, gentlemen, to our accounts."
Before we had more than got well started, I heard a voice on deck that brought me to my feet.
There was a step on the companionway, and then, "Father!" I cried, and leaped up with an eagerness that, boy-like, I thought I concealed with painstaking dignity when I shook his hand.
"Come, come, come, you young rascals!" my father cried. "What's the meaning of this? First hour in the home port and you are as busy at your books as if you were old students like myself. Come, put by your big books and your ledgers, lads. Roger, much as I hate to have to break bad news, your family are all in Boston, so—more joy to us!—there's nothing left but you shall come straight home with Benny here. Unless, that is—" my father's eyes twinkled just as Roger's sometimes did—"unless you've more urgent business elsewhere."
"I thank you, sir," said Roger, "but I have no more urgent business, and
I shall be—well, delighted doesn't half express it."