Jack chuckled.
“I may do a little freight-carrying,” he said with mock seriousness, “but the passenger trade is what I was thinking of chiefly.”
“Modest youth! You’ll want to go into steam for that, though,” said Mr. Holden, jokingly. “It is a pretty tall proposition for a youngster of your age. Have you fixed on just what ports you are going to trade at?”
“Only Greenport, Dad. But I’m in earnest.”
Still slightly amused, Mr. Holden stroked his chin and eyed his son inquiringly.
“Well, what is this wonderful scheme of yours?” he asked.
“I want to run a ferry between Garnett and Sayer’s wharf and the hotel landing on the Point,” the boy replied. “There is no way of getting across except by hiring a boat or walking around, or taking a carriage; and plenty of people would pay a dime to be run across there in a ferry-boat.”
“Yes, but—”
“Wait a minute, Dad. I’ve had this in my mind all the afternoon. Cap’n Crumbie tells me there are lots of people who inquire for the ferry in the summer. He says there never has been one, but that is no reason why there shouldn’t be one now. Perhaps I wouldn’t make lots of money at it, but I’m old enough to help you a bit, and I don’t want to loaf all through vacation, because I know you’ve had worry enough and that you’re going to have a tough time keeping me in school until I finish.”
“Well?” observed Samuel Holden, rather vaguely.