"That's all right," interrupted Homperton. "He's an upstairs member, and we've got his ten dollars."
"Well, that's something," admitted Stakes, calming down somewhat. "It's a pleasure to rob a robber, once in awhile."
"Sh—h!" said Geo. B., mischievously. "You forget that both Mr. Jarrod and I are present, and have also been separated from our membership fees."
"You don't mind," said Stakes. "You're good fellows, for folks that don't own sail-boats, and your wives will get ten dollars worth of struggle up stairs before the season's over. Eh?"
"I think so," said Jarrod.
Later in the evening the ferry-boat called for the card players, but broke her engines just as she reached the dock. That was unfortunate, for she had broken her engines only four times that day and this was her last trip. Wilder was with her, and he promptly hustled all the people aboard, collecting the fares as they crossed the gang-plank, and then, after some delay, he informed his passengers in a despairing voice that the blamed thing wouldn't go. Something was wrong with the engines, but if they would be patient he would tie up to the dock and overhaul the machinery and get things in shape again. Of course they all trooped off to the dock again. One or two ventured to suggest a return of their fares; but Wilder had gone somewhere for a lantern and taken the pocketful of nickels with him. Before he returned his people had formed a merry procession to the shore back of the club house, where they struck the trolley-car tracks and tramped the half mile to Tamawaca singing and joking and thoroughly enjoying themselves. They were acquainted with Wilder's ferry-boat, and never allowed it to make them unhappy.
Mrs. Jarrod was pleased and triumphant. She had won the third prize—a nineteen cent handkerchief embroidered with the initial "S."—and it was indeed fortunate that she did not overhear the remark of Mrs. Sauters that it was the same one she had dropped at the last yacht club party.
Next morning Jarrod went down to the post office and met several of his fellow cottagers. They were, as a class, highly respectable, well-to-do and good natured business men, who sought in this delightful nook rest and recreation after months of weary toil in their offices, factories, mills or mines. They talked freely of the adverse conditions existing in Tamawaca, of their abject dependence upon the whims of Wilder and Easton, of the usurpation by these men of the cottagers' rights and privileges, and ended always by expressing an opinion that the law, if appealed to, would not support the owners of Tamawaca in their autocratic actions.
"Wilder's all right," said one. "He's a good fellow, personally, and mighty accommodating. But he owns only a one-third interest, so what can he do against a man like Easton, who owns two-thirds and refuses to spend a nickel to keep his own property in repair?"
"Easton isn't so bad," remarked another; "but he's an old man, and weak, and Wilder makes him do anything he likes."