“I think he will.”
“But Major Toppleton has another string to his bow. Our cake will be dough in a week or so at the most—just as soon as the major fully understands the matter; and I think it won’t take him more than a week to see through the millstone.”
“You mean to say that he will not let his boats come to Centreport.”
“Certainly not. Then you can’t get a single through passenger. That is what we are coming to in a short time, unless we find some way to counteract the major’s plan.”
“Well, can’t we find some way?” asked Waddie anxiously.
“Perhaps we can. I haven’t had time to think of the matter much,” I replied, as Van Wolter ordered the men to cast off the fasts and haul in the plank.
I went into the wheel-house, rang the bell, and the Ucayga moved on. I gave the helm to the mate as soon as he came up. Waddie went below to talk with his father, to tell him, I suppose, that our victory was to be but a transient one.
“How’s the time, Captain Penniman?” asked the mate.
“Five minutes of five,” I replied, consulting my watch, and thinking of Grace Toppleton, as I always did when I saw it, for she had presented it to me in behalf of the Toppletonians.
And I was at variance with them now! No, not with many of them; only with Tommy and a few of his toadies. But I did not like to wear the watch, which had been the gift of those on the other side, for which Major Toppleton had probably paid the lion’s share, after the disagreeable events which had occurred. The thought came to me that I ought to return it to the donors; but this was rather a violent alternative for saving my pride.