"Hello, Captain," he telephoned. "This is Alec. We have found something going on here that I want to tell you about at once. Can you come down?"
"Yes. Are you in a hurry?"
"No. Any time to-night will do."
"I'll come just as soon as this music's done. Good-bye."
An hour later the shipper, the skipper, Alec, and big Hawley were in conference in the cabin of the Bertha B. Next day Captain Rumford called a meeting of all the shippers at Bivalve. The conference decided to put an end at once to the existing system of shell collecting.
"We've had enough of this haphazard method," said one shipper. "Let us give all our shells to one man and hold him responsible for their proper collection and disposition. Then we shall not have to worry about our scows any longer, and there won't be any of this crooked work going on to ruin the oyster business. It seems to me we couldn't do better than to turn the whole shell business over to that young chap of Cap'n Rumford's. He's a clean, energetic boy, and he'll take care of the shells right. With all our shells to handle, there will be enough in it for him to give his entire time to it."
"And what do you think I'm going to do if you take away the best young fellow I ever had in my employ?" asked Captain Rumford.
"That's your lookout," said his fellow shipper. "The oystermen's association is just as keen to get a good man as you are to keep one."
Captain Rumford himself laid the proposition before Alec. The latter was dumfounded. "Give me twenty-four hours to think it over," he said.
It was a crisis in Alec's life. It was an opportunity and yet it was not the sort of opportunity he welcomed. It would take him away from the direct line he had marked out for himself. Then, too, if he became a shell collector only, he would have no money coming to him until the spring planting season, and he did not see how he could get along without some regular income. Finally, he was reluctant to leave the employ of Captain Rumford.