CHAPTER I — A COLLISION
“Have you finished breakfast already, Harry?” asked Mrs. Gilbert, as Harry rose hurriedly from the table and reached for his hat, which hung on a nail especially appropriated to it.
“Yes, mother. I don’t want to be late for the store. Saturday is always a busy day.”
“It is a long day for you, Harry. You have to stay till nine o’clock in the evening.”
“I am always glad to have Saturday come, for then I can get my money,” replied Harry, laughing. “Well, good-by, mother—I’m off.”
“What should I do without him?” said Mrs. Gilbert to herself, as Harry dashed out of the yard on the way to Mead’s grocery store, where he had been employed for six months.
That would have been a difficult question to answer. Mrs. Gilbert was the widow of a sea captain, who had sailed from the port of Boston three years before, and never since been heard of.
It was supposed that the vessel was lost with all hands, but how the disaster occurred, or when, was a mystery that seemed never likely to be solved.
Captain Gilbert had left no property except the small cottage, which was mortgaged for half its value, and a small sum of money in the savings bank, which, by this time, was all expended for the necessaries of life.