"Who said anything about pay?" asked Hawley.
"I don't exactly understand what you mean," said Alec. "Of course you'd want pay if you helped me, and, of course, I would expect to pay you. Nobody can afford to work for nothing."
"Exactly what I reckon," said Hawley. "But I've had my pay already. Now I want to earn it."
"I don't understand you."
The big oysterman stepped forward. Alec retreated and raised his oar. "Just stand back, will you?" he said.
"I don't blame you a bit for feelin' that way, seein' as how you never had no reason to trust me," replied Hawley, and he went back to the very bow of the boat. "But I don't mean you no harm, lad. I come to help you. Jim Hawley ain't no copperhead, even if you do have reason to think so. That wasn't Jim Hawley that chucked you into the river. It was old John Barleycorn. Jim Hawley ain't that sort of a feller. I'm done with John Barleycorn, and I want you to know the real Jim Hawley. I want to help you and it won't cost you a cent."
Alec was too much astonished for words. "It's mighty kind of you," he said, "but I couldn't accept any man's services without paying him for them."
"Come, come, lad, don't be foolish," urged the big sailor. "You need me a whole lot more than you think."
"I'd like to know how."
"Well, I didn't want to tell you this, lad. But I'd feel safer about you if I was around. You know them shell collectors you been gettin' shells away from don't love you any too much, and I don't like to think of you out here alone in the dark. It's been worryin' me."