“Thank you, Jim,” answered Reube, holding out his hand. “We’ll say no more about last night, but I’ll remember your warning, and I want you to remember the promise you’ve just made me!”
CHAPTER IX.
The Dido’s First Fishing Trip.
JIM PAUL’S warning made an impression on Reube’s mind. When Will Carter heard of it he exclaimed:
“That fits in with my own ideas exactly, Reube! There’s some alien streak in that Gandy’s blood that makes him more likely to knife you in the back than fight you to your face; and that being a kind of enemy you don’t understand, you’ve got to be all the more careful, old man.”
“Well,” said Reube, thoughtfully, “what is one to do about it anyway?”
“Why, look sharp for a chance to get the scoundrel locked up, even if his family does need him,” answered Will. “And, meanwhile, keep your eyes open after dark, and take no chances. Carry a good heavy stick, too.”
“All right!” laughed Reube. “But I think these hands of mine are good enough for Mart, any day.”
That night proving fine with a fair, light wind down the bay, Reube and Will took the Dido out for her first drift. In the cuddy were stowed some extra clothes in case of a cold bay fog rolling up, and several thick blankets, and enough bread and meat and cold tea for a couple of days in case the trip should be unexpectedly prolonged. Will insisted also on a generous sheet of Mrs. Dare’s gingerbread and a brown stone jug of lime-juice ready mixed. He had a care for material comforts. But as for Reube, he was in such a state of exalted excitement that he could think of nothing but shad and the Dido.