But Mr. Tucker, overhearing from the window, vetoed that plan. “You boys had better give that check to me now,” he said. “Tomorrow’s plenty of time for indorsing it. Remember this is the Lord’s day, Toby.”
So they yielded up the fascinating slip of engraved paper, but that didn’t stop them from talking about it or discussing their plans, although, to be exact, it was Arnold only who dwelt on the matter of expenditure. “I am going to have your father build me a twenty-one-footer, Toby, like the Sea Snail he built for Mr. Cushing. She’s a dandy! I suppose it would cost more than a hundred and fifty dollars, but father said yesterday he’d help me pay for it. Then you’re going to show me how to sail it.”
“Mr. Cushing’s Sea Snail is a knockabout,” said Toby. “Wouldn’t you rather have a boat with a cabin house?”
“It would cost a lot more, Toby. No, I don’t think so. I guess father wouldn’t let me do any cruising, and just for sailing around here a boat like the Sea Snail would be fine. Maybe next year I’ll have the Frolic housed in forward. I could, you know. It wouldn’t be any trick at all. I suppose your father wouldn’t like me to ask him about the boat today?”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t.” This from Phebe, and very decidedly. “He never likes to talk business on Sunday. You’d better wait until tomorrow.”
“All right. Say, Toby, you haven’t said what you’re going to do with your half of the money. You could fix up the Turnover and get a new engine for her, if you wanted to.”
But Toby shook his head. “I haven’t decided—yet,” he answered slowly, “but I think I’ll just—just keep it.”
“Now who’s the Shylock?” demanded Arnold triumphantly.
“That’s very different,” said Phebe. “That’s just being saving.”