Go-Ahead; Or, The Fisher-Boy's Motto

by Harry Castlemon

"Ah!" said Mr. Graves, drawing back and stroking his whiskers—"that's bad—a person can't buy any thing without money; that's been my experience." As he said this, he looked out over the bay and began to whistle, as if he had nothing further to say on the subject. This greatly discouraged Bob, for he saw that Mr. Graves had suddenly lost all interest in his affairs. "He knows that I am going to ask him to trust me!" thought the fisher-boy, and he had hit the mark exactly.

The boat-builder was like a great many other men; he could afford to offer his sympathy to any one in distress, because it did not cost him any thing. He had spoken so kindly to Bob, because he thought he had come there to buy one of his boats, and was ready to pay the money as soon as the bargain could be concluded; but when he learned that the fisher-boy's pockets were empty, his feelings changed instantly. If Bob could have paid the cash for his boat, he would have left the ship-yard firm in his belief that Mr. Graves was one of the kindest men in the world; as it was, he began to believe him to be the most hard-hearted.

For a moment the fisher-boy stood looking down at the ground in great perplexity. He scarcely knew what to say next, but he finally decided that the best course he could pursue would be to state his business at once. He wanted it settled one way or the other, for he did not like to be kept in suspense.

"Mr. Graves," said he, with a desperate effort, "I came here to ask you if you would sell me one of your skiffs on time. I'll pay you for it in three months." (He was at first going to say one month, as Tom had suggested; but what if the lottery scheme should fail? He did not believe that any such disappointment was in store for him, but still, it was best to be on the safe side).

The fisher-boy was astonished at himself. He had not believed that he possessed the courage to ask the question he had just propounded, and the words had scarcely passed his lips before he was sorry that he had ever uttered them. He was certain that he had lowered himself in Mr. Graves's estimation, and that gentleman's conduct gave him reason for this belief. He opened his eyes in amazement, and looked the fisher-boy very hard in the face, as if he could hardly believe that he was in earnest. For the first time in his life, Bob had met a man he could not look fairly and squarely in the eye. He hung his head as if he had been guilty of a very mean action, and almost expected to hear the ship-builder order him out of the yard. He waited impatiently for his answer, but it was not given immediately, for Mr. Graves picked up a stick and began to whittle it with his knife, at the same time running his eye over his little fleet of skiffs with a sort of affectionate look, as if they stood very high in his estimation, and he was not willing to sell any of them "on time."

At length, to the fisher-boy's immense relief, he threw away the stick, and asked:

"How do I know that you will pay me at the end of three months?"

"I promise you that I will work day and night to raise the money," answered Bob. "Besides, I will give you my note."

Mr. Graves laughed loudly. "I am afraid your note would not be worth much," said he. "But I have always heard you spoken of as an honest, hard-working boy, and I am willing to give you a little assistance. Come with me!"

Bob could scarcely credit his ears. He followed the boat-builder like one in a dream; and not until Mr. Graves stepped into a yawl and pushed off toward the spot where the skiffs were anchored, did he believe that it was all a reality, and that he was soon to be the owner of one of the finest boats in the harbor.