And Mr. Markham’s eyes flashed, and he showed plainly that he was thoroughly aroused.
“I came back to Bayport to-day, in reply to a pretty sharp letter I received from Mr. Williams,” he went on. “I had important business in New York, but when I saw what an awful mess things had got into here I took the first train. Williams was another of the idiots that thought I was going to swindle him simply because I left in a great hurry without writing him a check.”
“And he was convinced I was trying to rob him of his boat,” I said.
“So I have heard. But I have fixed that matter all up with him. The boat is paid for, and is at this moment lying at the wharf here in Bend Center. She is your property, and here is the bill of sale for her.”
And Mr. Markham pulled an envelope from his pocket and passed it over.
With hands that trembled I took the bill of sale and glanced it over. True enough, it certified that for the sum of four hundred dollars the Catch Me was now the sole property of Reuben Stone.
“Thank you, Mr. Markham,” I said. “I—I—can’t say more, but I am—I am—”
“Don’t try to say more,” laughed the gentleman. “I am ashamed of myself to think that my gift should have cost you so much trouble. But you shall lose nothing by me. I have not forgotten what more I intended to do for you.”
“Well, Mr. Markham, about this other matter,” broke in Squire Slocum, who had thus far remained silent.