"I will promise never to say one word about what happened in the woods. I will give this letter to your son to-morrow morning, and then I will bury the whole thing forever. No one shall ever know where the money came from."
Mr. Hawlinshed had a great many doubts, as well he might have had. But he was in a very trying situation himself. His relations with his son were unpleasant. He had no malice or ill feeling towards Pearl, and all he wanted was to conceal the sad act of the young man.
Dory was very tired; and he could not help gaping, he was so sleepy. He shook hands with his new friend, who said they might never meet again. If he returned to the vicinity of Burlington, he should certainly look him up; and he hoped he should find him an honest, industrious, and prosperous young man. Dory left the room.
He kept one hand in his pocket on the wallet which contained the treasure that was to open up the brilliant scheme by which he hoped to support his mother and sister. He went out of the hotel without any definite idea of where he intended to go. It was ten o'clock by this time. He was not penniless now, as he had been before. He was rich enough to spend the night, or even a week or a month, at the Witherill House; but the idea of going there, or to any other public house, did not occur to him.
Though he had five dollars for "expenses," he could not think of paying out a dollar, or even half a dollar, for a night's lodging. That would do very well for Mr. Vanderbilt, but not for him. It would be throwing money away. He walked down to the lake. He was not so sleepy as he had been. Stirring himself had waked him up. As he came to the wharf, his brilliant scheme leaped into his head again.
During his stop at Plattsburgh the day before, he had seen a sailboat, which was to be sold at auction with other effects of its deceased owner. He had looked the craft over, and asked a great many questions about her. Though she was twenty-five feet long, and was handsomely fitted up, the knowing ones said she would not bring a hundred dollars at auction.
She could not have cost less than five or six hundred, but she had a bad name. Her late owner had been drowned in consequence of her upsetting. People said it was the fault of the boat. She carried a lee helm, and upset when there was no excuse for her doing so. She had been known to tip over three times, and she was sure to drown whoever bought her.
Dory looked her over very carefully. He had been about all sorts of boats ever since he was a small boy. In fact, he was a natural water-bird, almost as much so as a duck. He was a born mechanic, and his taste not less than his associations had led him to apply his mechanical genius to boats and boating.
The name of the boat was the Goldwing. Dory had examined her the day before, and he "took no stock" in her bad name. He was very sure that any boat would behave badly if rigged and ballasted as the Goldwing was. He wished he owned her, or that he could obtain the use of her for the season. He was confident that he could redeem her reputation.
In connection with this boat had bubbled up his brilliant scheme. If he had her at Burlington, or at several other points on the lake, he could make five dollars a day, if not six or eight, by taking out parties. Such a business was more to his taste, and afforded a better field for his talents, than tending table in the cabin of a steamer.