Weston hesitated. He could not very well tell this man that a vein of probably misguided pride rendered him unwilling to accept a favor from Ida Stirling’s father.
“I don’t think there was any obligation, sir,” he said.
“That,” remarked Stirling dryly, “is a kind of feeling that may trip you up some day. Still, you came this time.”
“I did,” said Weston. “You see, the case was rather different. You offered to hire me to do a thing I’m accustomed to. It’s my occupation.”
His companion made a little sign of comprehension, though there was a faintly whimsical smile in his eyes.
“Now, you’re wondering why I brought you back east all this way?”
Weston admitted it, and the contractor fixed his eyes on him.
“Well,” he said, “it seems that there’s fishing and sailing to be done, and I’m not quite sure about that major man. Guess he’s always had people to wait on him, and that doesn’t tend to smartness in any one. When my daughter and her friends go out on the lake, or up the river, you’ll go along with them.”
This was, perhaps, a little hard on Major Kinnaird, but Weston to some extent sympathized with his employer’s point of view. The contractor was not a sportsman as the term is generally understood, but he was a man who could strip a gun, make or mend harness, or break a horse. When he had gone shooting in his younger days it was usually to get something to eat, and, as a rule, he obtained it, though he rent his clothes or got wet to the waist in the process. He could not sail a boat, but if he had been able to do so he would also in all probability have been capable of building one. Stirling was a man who had never depended very much on others, and could, if occasion arose, dispense with their services. He recognized something of the same resourcefulness in Weston, and, because of it, took kindly to him.
In the meanwhile the breeze had freshened, and the boat, slanting more sharply, commenced to throw the spray all over her as she left the shelter of the woods behind. She met the short, splashing head sea with streaming bow, and the sliding froth crept farther and farther up her lee deck as she smashed through it. Then as the water found its way over the coaming and poured down into her, Stirling glanced at his companion.