“My father–––” Archie began.
“I’ll have the help o’ no man’s money nor brains nor influence in a business so simple,” Bill protested.
The situation was this: Bill o’ Burnt Bay had chartered a schooner––his antique schooner––the schooner that was forever on the point of sinking with all hands––Bill had chartered the schooner Heavenly Home to Luke Foremast of Boney Arm to run a cargo from Saint Pierre. But no sooner had the schooner appeared in French waters than she was impounded for a debt that Luke Foremast unhappily owed Garnot & Cie, of Saint Pierre. It was a high-handed proceeding, of course; and it was perhaps undertaken without scruple because of the unpopularity of all Newfoundlanders.
Luke Foremast protested in an Anglo-Saxon roar; but roar and bellow and bark and growl as he would, it made no difference: the Heavenly Home was seized, condemned and offered for sale, as Bill o’ Burnt Bay had but now learned.
“’Tis a hard thing to do,” Archie objected.
“Hut!” Bill exclaimed. “’Tis nothin’ but 146 goin’ aboard in the dark an’ puttin’ quietly out t’ sea.”
“Anyhow,” Archie laughed, “I’ll go.”
Sir Archibald Armstrong liked to have his son stand upon his own feet. He did not wish to be unduly troubled with requests for permission; he fancied it a babyish habit for a well-grown boy to fall into. The boy should decide for himself, said he, where decision was reasonably possible for him; and if he made mistakes he would surely pay for them and learn caution and wisdom. For this reason Archie had no hesitation in coming to his own decision and immediately setting out with Bill o’ Burnt Bay upon an expedition which promised a good deal of highly diverting and wholly unusual experience.
Billy Topsail and Jimmie Grimm wished the expedition luck when it boarded the mail-boat that night.