"The doctor tells me I'm liable to have these turns almost any time, and with recurring frequency. That makes my wife opposed to my going on the water any longer, and I've come over to see if you lads won't take my business."
The boys knew he was the owner of three fish-pounds at various points on the bay, and with some eagerness they asked him his terms.
"Well," he said slowly, "I thought if you were willing to take my pounds off my hands, and the contract I have with city parties for the fish, I'd give you two-thirds of the net profits. The other third ought to be a fair percentage on the money I have invested. Then if you chaps should want to buy the pounds right out, you shall have them for what they cost me."
It was altogether too good an opportunity to let pass, and the boys promptly accepted the offer.
They still kept the home trade they had built up, but shipped to city parties all the fish they had exceeding the home demand, and thus found themselves in the possession of a weekly income that they had scarcely dreamed of. It was very plain that unless some unforeseen circumstance came in to prevent, their business had taken a boom that would insure them a most successful season.
[CHAPTER VIII.--THE LOST OX-CART.]
It is Saturday, the seventeenth of June, and therefore just four weeks since the new firm was fairly organized. The partners still use this day of the week for their special home duties. Let us, then, cross over to the island, take a peep at them, and see how they prosper.
As our visit is through the mind only, we will go to the house first. The windows and doors are open, and the balmy air of the early summer is circulating through the rooms with its life-giving and purifying powers. This suggests that the lads cannot be far away, though we do not find them within the building. They will not, however, object to our mental inspection of the premises, and therefore we may safely enter.
This room is the kitchen, reaching across the whole width of the house, and occupying what may be termed the west end of the structure. We notice that the carpetless floor is still damp, where it has been scrubbed to snowy whiteness; the stove shines with its glossy blackness; pots, kettles, dishes, chairs and table are all in place, and an air of exquisite neatness pervades the room.
Passing to our right we enter the sitting-room, not so large as the kitchen, and occupying the southeast corner of the house. There is a carpet on the floor--the only one Judd's mother possessed. A small table stands in the center of the room, and on it rests a lamp, a paper or two, and some books. A few cane-seated chairs, an old-fashioned and roomy lounge, and curtains at the two windows, complete the furnishings.