“Huh! Well, what about selling her?”
“Not this season,” said Jack. “I have only just started this ferry and it looks as though I might clean up something by the fall.”
“Best let me hire her,” said the man. “My name is Martin, and I expect to be around Greenport for a while. Look here, you needn’t be afraid of me doing any damage to her. I’ll promise not to take her outside the breakwater, and of course if there should be any damage I’ll make it good.”
Jack wavered for an instant, but only an instant. The sloop was by far the most treasured possession he had ever had, and the idea of allowing some one else to run her about, perhaps scraping her bottom against the rocks, or even capsizing her, was distinctly distasteful. Moreover, had not Cap’n Crumbie warned him only a little while previously of placing much faith in such a man? As a matter of fact, if something did happen to the Sea-Lark and this man gave him another boat in her place, it would not be the same. He loved the Sea-Lark for what she was, for what she had already done for him, and because of the long hours of toil he had spent in making her into what she was.
“No, thanks,” he said. “Any time you want to go for a sail in the evening, after the ferry stops running at six o’clock, I’ll take you, but I won’t let her go otherwise.”
Martin shrugged, and strolled forward for a while, after which he went below into the little cabin, where there were one or two passengers sitting. As the sloop neared the wharf he came on deck again.
“Now, don’t forget what I’ve said,” he remarked. “Any time you change your mind, let me know, see?”
“I’m not likely to, thanks,” replied Jack, surprised at the man’s persistence.
Jack and the watchman were standing together on the wharf a few minutes afterward, when George Santo joined them.