The steamer having, on this occasion, been made fast to the wharf and the gangplank put out, Squire Brackett crossed it, dragging his purchase behind him,—the purchase skulking very unwillingly across the plank and showing its teeth at the crowd upon the wharf.
The squire hated and despised boys, and made it a point to ignore them whenever it was possible. For this very reason they delighted to annoy him by hailing him whenever they met him. Young Joe Warren had a way of driving the squire nearly into fits by pretending to mistake him for one Captain Kendrick, who was the bitterest enemy the squire had, and then always apologizing for his mistake by explaining to the squire that he could not tell them apart.
“Good morning, Squire Brackett, glad to see you back again!” cried Henry Burns, in the heartiest fashion imaginable, as the squire stepped on to the wharf.
“Humph! Morning—morning,” grunted the squire, as he eyed Henry Burns suspiciously.
Henry Burns smiled most affably, as though the squire had been his dearest friend and adviser.
“Why, how do you do, squire?” said George Warren, cordially.
Squire Brackett scowled angrily at him, but answered, “How d’ye do?” as short as he could.
Just then young Joe made his appearance.
“How are you, Captain Kendrick?” he bawled, loud enough to be heard all over the wharf.
The crowd began to smile, and young Joe added, hastily: