“That won’t help the town,” said the trapper.
“You’re right; and it won’t help me; I’ve got a good supply of merchandise in the cellar—cloth mostly and a little powder. Bought it last week from the captain of the Sea Breeze and offered it right off to a friend of mine in Carolina, but can’t send it till I hear from him and know whether he wants it. By that time, though, I’m afraid there won’t be any ships sailing.”
“Sell it here in town,” suggested Glen.
“Can’t do it; my offer was as good as a promise.”
“Send it overland, then, though that would be more expensive, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, it would be; there wouldn’t be any profit left.”
But during the stress of the next few days Uncle David quite forgot about his merchandise. Captain-General Thomas Gage had arrived in a ship from England; and on the seventeenth of May he landed at Long Wharf and as military governor was received with ceremony. On the first of June, amid the tolling of bells and fasting and prayer on the part of most of the good people of Boston, the Port Bill went into effect. A few days later Governor Hutchinson sailed for England.
Uncle David was moody and preoccupied. He and Glen spent much of their time in the North End, and Don could not help wondering what they were doing there. He and the trapper had become such close friends that he missed his old companion greatly. “Where do they go every evening?” he asked his aunt.
“You must not ask too many questions, Donald,” Aunt Martha replied.
“Well,” said Don, “how long will the port be closed?”