So Darry tried to assume a cheerfulness he was far from feeling.
Long he lay awake that night, thinking and trying to lay out some plan of action that might promise results.
In the morning Darry visited his traps.
Only one victim rewarded his labor, and this added to his gloom.
He finished all his various chores, and they were many, for he had taken numerous duties upon his shoulders in order to spare Abner's wife.
As before, it was nearly the middle of the afternoon before he could get away.
Mr. Keeler loaded him down with packages intended for the station-keeper; indeed Darry had to make two trips between the store and his boat before he had all his cargo aboard.
The weather was what a sailor would call "dirty"; that is, it gave promise of turning into more or less of a storm, and wise mariners would be keeping a weather eye out for a safe and snug harbor.
Darry had no fear. He believed he knew that bay like a book now, and since he had tinkered with the boat and placed it in fair condition he thought it could stand any sea that might meet him in his passage to and fro between the mainland and the stretch of sand acting as a buffer to the ocean tides.
It was a dead calm when he started, and he was compelled to use the oars; but by the time he reached the middle a breeze sprang up, and quick to take advantage of his opportunity he spread his bit of a sail, and went flying along like a frightened gull.