Under ordinary circumstances this mishap would have excited the sympathy of those on board the Curlew. Now, on account of the uncivil reply of the rival skipper to their captain, they were inclined to rejoice at what had happened, and they roared with laughter at the rueful faces of the dripping men as they scrambled back into their boat.
To Breeze the whole affair presented itself in such a comical aspect that he laughed louder and longer than any of the others, though in a perfectly good-humored way, and without a trace of an unkind feeling towards those who had been so unfortunate. His mirth was, however, deemed peculiarly irritating by one of the rival crew, a young man with an ugly face that bore unmistakable traces of dissipation. He shook his fist at Breeze and called out,
“Never you mind, young feller, I’ll not forget you! And maybe I’ll find a chance to make you laugh out of the other side of your mouth some day.”
This speech sobered Breeze at once, though at first he looked around in a bewildered way, thinking it could not possibly be meant for him. When he realized that it was he shouted back,
“Seems to me I wouldn’t feel so bad about it if I was you. I wasn’t laughing at you, anyway. I was laughing to think how surprised those mackerel must have been when you went diving down after them, trying to catch ’em in your hands.”
This raised another shout of laughter from the Curlew men, but the young man towards whom it was directed only shook his fist again at Breeze, and turned away without a word, going below to find some dry clothes.
Breeze saw that he had unwittingly made for himself an enemy in this stranger, and for a time the knowledge caused him real distress. He was a warm-hearted boy, preferring friendships to enmities, and would at any time sacrifice his own pleasure or comfort to win the former and overcome the latter. At the same time, he was not sorry that he had asserted his own independence and answered back as he had. The incident soon passed from his mind, however, in the rush of more stirring events, and it was some time before he was again reminded of it.
Captain Coffin was much puzzled to account for the surliness of the rival skipper until the Curlew passed astern of the other schooner, so that her name, Roxy B., and her hailing port could be read. Then it flashed across him that this was the Rockhaven craft that was thought to be so fast, but which he had beaten in a fair race on a run into Boston the summer before.
“SEEMS TO ME I WOULDN’T FEEL SO BAD ABOUT IT IF I WAS YOU.”