"Do you allow he might be thinkin' of tryin' to get square with Uncle Ben?" Tommy asked in a whisper when the dory was some little distance from the shore on her way to the nearest trap, and Mr. Rowe replied confidently:
"Don't get any sich a notion as that down, lad. Eliakim is sober enough now to realize that he'd be gettin' inter the worst kind of hot water if he tried any funny games with the old man, 'specially after we would swear he was the only outsider left on the island when we pushed off. He couldn't count on doin' any mischief with the idee that nobody would know who'd done it. I reckon he's hard up for cash to hire help in floatin' the schooner, an' havin' nothin' else to do, is kinder watchin' the craft, with a crazy belief that she may slide off'er the sand without waitin' for help."
Then the dory was over the first trap, and Tom, who insisted on serving a thorough apprenticeship at the business, was picking up the buoy rope with the gaff, doing it "uncommonly handy-like," as Mr. Rowe said approvingly.
The "take" was not as large as on the day previous, but yet they found marketable lobsters enough to satisfy any save the most avaricious, and when finally the dory was pulled around the southern point of the island on her way to the car, where the results of the day's work were to be left, Mr. Rowe said exultantly:
"I reckon the family have earned their keep an' a leetle more this day. With lobsters fetchin' eighteen cents apiece wholesale we've scooped in good wages. But wait till Uncle Ben gets a schooner! Then you lads will be jumpin' to in good earnest. What with saltin' down, runnin' fresh fish inter market, an' 'tendin' to the traps, it won't be any very idle lives you'll be leadin'."
"Knockin' 'round here don't seem like real work," Master Falonna replied, in a tone of content. "But even if it was the hardest kind of a job we'd feel like bucklin' down in great shape, so long as we're workin' to make a home for the family. Hello! It looks as if Cap'en Doak had gone at last! I can't see his dory anywhere!"
"What's that white thing on the 'Sally's' hull?" Mr. Rowe asked, curiously, turning in his seat to make certain Tommy was not mistaken as to the absence of the unwelcome visitor.
Neither of the lads could even make a guess as to the correct reply. They could see a small square of white on the hull of the stranded vessel, and it had, from a distance, the appearance of a sheet of paper; but since it was not probable Captain Doak would have taken the trouble to fasten anything of the kind on the "Sally," it seemed reasonable to suppose that something had been blown against the timbers by the wind, as Tommy suggested carelessly.
When the lobsters had been thrown into the car and the fishermen were nearing the beach, Uncle Ben came out of the shanty to meet them, and as the boat's bow struck the sand he cried, showing signs of nervous excitement for perhaps the first time in his life:
"Do you see that 'ere?" and he pointed to the square of white which had already attracted Mr. Rowe's attention.