“Surf–boy” was a title, which, spoken in Joe’s sneering way, Walter did not fancy. If Tom Walker had roared it out, Tom would have put into it a tone of hearty good–will; and Walter would have worn the name gladly. Joe added a sneer to it, and the title galled Walter. However, he kept his temper under, and always addressed Joe courteously. The other surfmen noticed Joe’s manner, and silently criticised it by treating Walter’s youth with all the greater considerateness.
On one occasion when Joe contemptuously and with the spirit of a bully had flung this title at him, Slim Tarleton remarked, “Hullo, Walter! You’ve got a lot of strength, I know. You have got master arms. We’ve got an old stump in our cow pasture, and I mean to tell father to let you try on it when we are takin’ up stumps.”
There was no Slim standing at the station door to offset Joe’s present sneer with the tender of another stump.
“Ben movin’ the world, boy?” continued Joe.
“I have been up to Uncle Boardman’s,” replied Walter.
“How is his mill gettin’ on? ‘A fool and his money is soon parted,’ they say.”
“He is not a fool,” said Walter resolutely. “I believe if he had an honest man to deal with, he would get along.”
“Indeed!” remarked Joe sneeringly.
Several of the surfmen now came to the door, tempted by the mild air, whose softness seemed to be on sea and land, softening all glaring color and over all roughness throwing a veil of purplish haze. It was one of the fine effects of that scenic painter, Nature.
Who of those present understood that Joe Cardridge was not only an ally of the great Baggs, but also his hired—I can hardly say paid—agent? It was he that had induced a number of the men to intrust their money with Baggs; and on every man’s money he had been promised a commission.