“That’s all.”
Frank removed the “phones,” grounded his key and told Harry he could stop the motor.
“I’ll be glad when the doctor does get here,” he confided to the others, after he had communicated the message, “for I’m beginning to think that we are in for some sort of trouble. Those two Daniels are pretty influential in the village, and it only needs a word from them to turn the whole crowd against us.”
“We could stand ’em off,” bragged Pudge grandiloquently, “lassoes and lobsters, we could stand ’em off. I half wish they would come—buttons and buttercakes, but I do!” and Pudge doubled up his fists and looked fierce.
“You forget, Pudge,” said Frank, “that we are here in positions of responsibility. All this property is your father’s. It is our duty to see that no harm comes to it. A bunch of those fishermen inflamed by anger might be able to do more harm here in an hour than could be repaired in months, not to mention the cost.”
“Surely you don’t think they’d come down to actual violence, Frank?” inquired Harry.
“I don’t know. The two Daniels looked mighty savage to-day, I can tell you. If it hadn’t been for the electric fence they might have made trouble. At all events I’ll be glad to have some advice.”
CHAPTER III.—A NIGHT ALARM.
After supper that night, a meal consisting of fried salt pork, boiled potatoes and some fresh fish which Frank had caught earlier in the day, the elder of the Chester lads called what he termed “a conference,” although Billy Barnes declared it was more in the nature of a “council of war.”
We are not going to detail here all that was said as it would make wearisome reading; but, after an hour or more of talk, Frank spoke his mind.