“And who might the young pup be?” asked Cap’n Crumbie, as they sailed leisurely back to Garnett and Sayer’s wharf. “Never seen him before, as far as I rec’lect, and yet his face is kind o’ familiar.”
“I don’t know him,” said Jack. “And if he’s trying to be funny at the expense of this boat, I don’t want to know him. There’s nothing queer about her, is there, Cap’n?”
“Queer! I should say not! Maybe the color o’ the paint offends his artistic eye; or then again maybe he’s only jealous.”
“Well, summer visitor or not, if he doesn’t stop trying to make fun of the sloop I’ll give him a licking,” declared Jack.
“Or let him come on board as a passenger,” grinned the watchman, “and take his money, and then drop him overboard half-way over.”
That morning only two other passengers crossed in the ferry, one of them a lady who had a small hand-bag with her and insisted on paying Jack fifty cents for his services, and the other a portly man who wore three diamond rings and, after handing Jack a quarter at the hotel landing, waiting in the boat, apparently as a guarantee of good faith, while the boy hunted for change, and finished up by pocketing the fifteen cents and complaining bitterly about the lad running a public ferry and not being able to change a quarter.
Business did not improve much during the rest of the day, and the owner of the ferry was a trifle disappointed.
“They don’t seem to be coming with a rush,” he said to Cap’n Crumbie.
“For the land’s sake, give ’em a chance!” replied the watchman. “Here you are, not in business more than an hour or two, and complaining.”