"Well," said the fisher-boy, good-naturedly, "if you think you can beat this lumber-yard, this is a first-rate chance to try it."
But the boy very wisely declined to accept the challenge. He had seen the Go Ahead make remarkably fast time, and he did not like to risk the disgrace of being beaten.
As the boats were all moving along leisurely, Bob soon took the lead, and presently he rounded the pier, and entered the harbor.
"Every body I meet has something to say about my boat!" said he to himself. "I don't wonder that the workmen refuse to patronize me, for she is a rough-looking craft, that's a fact. If I couldn't swim like a duck, I should almost be afraid to get into her myself; for she looks as if she was just about to turn over. The water that runs in through the bottom doesn't trouble me any, because I go barefooted; but, if I was rich, and could afford to wear fine boots, I believe I should hesitate about taking passage in a craft like this. I really begin to believe that it was more by good luck than good management, that I ever made a cent with her. I must think up a plan to get a new boat; now, that's settled."
Bob sculled slowly to the middle of the harbor, where he stopped and sat down in his scow to wait for a passenger. A short distance from him was a steamer, which was just getting ready to start on her regular trip to Boston. The first bell had been rung, and the gang-plank was crowded with passengers who were hurrying on board, and with visitors, who were making haste to get ashore. As the fisher-boy sat watching the steamer, his oar idly dangling in the water, and his thoughts busy with the question which, for the last three months, had been uppermost in his mind, he happened to glance toward the opposite side of the harbor, and saw a gentleman walking uneasily up and down the wharf, stopping now and then to wave his hat, to attract the attention of some of the ferry-boys.
"Yes, sir; comin', sir! Be there directly, sir!" shouted a voice behind the fisher-boy, which the latter knew belonged to Sam Barton. "I'm comin' like a steamboat, sir!"
The words were hardly out of Sam's mouth, however, before he became aware that his old rival was ready to contest the ownership of the two cents' passage money, which the gentleman was waiting to pay to the boy who should carry him across the harbor; for Bob had jumped to his feet, and was sending his clumsy scow through the water at a rate of speed that soon left Sam behind. The latter, however, never once thought of giving up the race, for he was one who tried to profit by his experience. He had told the fisher-boy that he had learned that a nice, clean boat would go a long way toward securing custom, and he was in hopes that when the passenger on the wharf saw his fine yawl, drawn up along-side Bob's scow, he would do as others had done—take passage with him, and leave the fisher-boy to look elsewhere. This was a favorite trick of Sam's, and by it he gained a great deal of custom.
"Jump in, sir!" said Bob, as he ran the Go Ahead along-side the wharf.
"Out o' the way, there, Bobby Jennings!" shouted Sam. "Here comes the boat the gentleman's been a waitin' for. He wants cushions to set down on."