Walter, his ankle done up in splints and bandages, and using a cane for a crutch, limped into the fish house, the day following his accident, and sought a seat on a pile of old nets in a corner where he was not likely to be seen by Mr. Daniels. He had not sought the kindly fish boss yet to tell him of the loss of the launch. He was deferring the unpleasant task in hopes that his chums would be successful when the telling would be easier. Besides, he was not feeling equal to the task of explaining. His foot pained him intensely. He was also depressed by the doctor's statement that he had suffered a compound fracture of the ankle and must not try to use his foot for many days to come. He had but little money in his pocket and had not dared spend any of it for board and lodging. Instead he had slept miserably in a skiff pulled up on shore and had breakfasted off of cheese and crackers. Taking it all in all he did not feel equal to the unpleasant task of breaking bad news. He had been drawn to the fish house, however, knowing that there he would be likely to hear the first news of his absent chums. He was hoping Mr. Daniels would, not spy him in his secluded corner.
But Mr. Daniels was having troubles of his own. A dull season is hard on the fishermen but harder still on the fish boss. On the desk before him was a heap of letters and telegrams from customers demanding fish. If he could not supply them at once, they would of course buy elsewhere. Building up a trade is slow work, and if you cannot supply its wants, it is soon lost. He was worrying through the mass of mail when the telephone bell rang. He lifted the receiver off the hook.
"Hello! who's this?" he demanded, curtly.
"It's Captain Brown, Cap," answered a tired voice. "I'm at the dock. Send down for some fish, will you?"
"How many have you got, twenty pounds?" demanded Mr. Daniels, sarcastically.
"Call it twenty pounds if you like," drawled the tired voice. "I calculate, though, that they will come nearer tipping the scales at ten thousand pounds."
"Good boy," exclaimed the fish boss in delight. "They will help me out a lot. Where did you catch them."
"I didn't catch them," said the weary tones. "Credit them to the account of those new guys, 'West, Hazard and so forth.' Good-by, I've got to go back for another load."
Walter in his secluded corner caught enough of the conversation to tell him that his chums had succeeded. He forgot his pain and discouragement. Things took on a rosy tinge. He suddenly remembered the dime's worth of cheese and crackers, for breakfast, had only put an edge on his appetite. He stole out of the fish house and hobbled down the street to a little restaurant where he was soon seated behind a big, juicy steak and mashed potatoes.