“That’s what I’ll do. I ain’t so fond of pilin’ out o’ bed at five o’clock as I used to be. I’m getting on now.”
Perhaps he was, but he didn’t look it, for he was straight and tall and wiry, and, save for the wrinkles on his leathery face and the grizzled hair above, he might have been mistaken for a man of not over fifty. But he owned proudly to seventy-one! “Sensible livin’ did it,” he declared. “Plenty o’ work in the fresh air, good victuals and not too much of ’em, and bed every night at nine o’clock.”
Arnold said he didn’t think he’d like the last feature, which set Mr. Griscom—Artemus Griscom was his whole name, he told them—off on a homily regarding the benefits of “early to bed and early to rise” that brought them to the landing. Toby bade Mr. Griscom good-by with sentiments of gratitude, and the old gentleman went off assuring them that he had had “a right nice ride in your boat.”
No one appeared to go back on the Frolic, although they watched the road anxiously until the last moment. But Mr. Griscom had, as it proved, broken the ice, for two passengers were on hand for the eleven o’clock trip, a lady and a little girl of about eight. Toby was so pleased that he readily acceded to the lady’s request that the little girl be charged only half-price! “That’s what I pay on the railroad for her,” she explained, “and on the trolley I don’t pay anything, but I guess you wouldn’t want to carry her for nothing,” she added apologetically. Toby acknowledged that he wouldn’t and declared himself satisfied with half-fare. The lady was rather nervous during the trip, but the child had a fine time and would undoubtedly have been over the side into the water if Arnold hadn’t detailed himself to restrain her antics!
There were no more passengers that day, but Toby was encouraged. “We took in a dollar and a quarter,” he said, “and if we did that every day it would be—it would be seven dollars and a half a week! And then there’s the three dollars from Mr. Whitney!”
“It’s too bad he doesn’t have to go across every day,” said Phebe, who had joined the boys on the wharf in time for the final trip. “I should think he’d need to.”
“You might suggest it to him,” laughed Toby as he prepared to return to Johnstown to keep his five-thirty appointment. “You get in and come over with me, and you can tell him about it on the way back.”
But Phebe shook her head, and she and Arnold got into the Frolic, and the two launches raced out of the harbor and half-way across the bay. But Toby’s little boat was no match for the Frolic, and after a while the white launch came around, Phebe and Arnold waving their hands as they passed the Urnove on their way back. Mr. Whitney was waiting at the landing, and as he seated himself in the boat he took his hat off and laid it beside him. “It’s been a hot day, T. Tucker,” he said with a sigh. “Take all the time you want going back. This breeze is fine!”
So Toby not only let the engine idle but stood straight across to the Head and then turned back along the shore, lengthening the trip, to Mr. Whitney’s pleasure and his own satisfaction, for he felt that he was coming nearer to earning that three dollars! “I ought to pay more this time,” said the passenger, as he disembarked at the town float. “You didn’t bargain to take me on a pleasure cruise!”
But Toby smiled and said that part was a present, and Mr. Whitney went off to find a carriage to take him over to the railroad after arranging for another trip to Johnstown on Monday morning. Toby chugged across the cove and tied up at the home dock and then hurried to supper, jingling the coins in his pocket in time to the tune he was whistling. Four dollars and a quarter! Toby had visions of opulence! And, better still, he had visions of Yardley Hall School!