At the Black Rocks Part 16

I will throw my line into the water off these rocks here, and carry to camp a string of fish worth having. I'll open Sam's eyes for him."

d.i.c.k, though, overslept his intended hour of rising. It was Dave who came rus.h.i.+ng into the a.s.sistant-keeper's room, where d.i.c.k had been sleeping, and he cried, "d.i.c.k, d.i.c.k! there is a furious shouting for you. Two men and a young fellow are down in a boat at the foot of the tower, and want you."

"I'll be there directly," said d.i.c.k, springing out of his bed. He dressed quickly, and rushed down to the door of the signal-tower.

Looking below, he exclaimed, "That you, Sam Whittles?"

"Yes. Where have you been? Didn't sleep a wink last night. Thought you were drowned and everything else. Got these two fishermen who came along to pull me here in their boat. Come, boy, come home!"

"Fury!" said d.i.c.k in his thoughts. "Won't--won't you come up?" he asked aloud. "I was going to surprise you, take you some fish, and so on."

"Fis.h.!.+" said Sam contemptuously; "these men will sell it to me by the acre."

"Squar mile, ef he wants it," said one of these piscatory individuals, looking up and grinning.

"Won't you all come up?" asked Dave Fletcher.

"Can't, thank you," said Sam. "Just throw that Jonah overboard, and we will go home."

"Jonah" said it was "too bad," and stole down the ladder, feeling worse than on the day he returned in the runaway schooner.

VII.

_THE CAMP AT THE NUB._

Two days later the light-keeper gave Dave a holiday, that he might spend a day at the Nub. d.i.c.k Pray came after him, and as he rowed off from the lighthouse he called out to the keeper, who stood in the tower door, "Don't worry about your a.s.sistant. I will bring him home after dinner.

Get here by four."

The keeper nodded his head. He said to himself, "May be; but if I don't see a boat starting off from the Nub by a quarter of four, I shan't leave it to you to bring him, but go myself for him. You are great on what you are going to do; I like the kind that does."

It was a pleasant boat-ride to the Nub.

"Welcome!" shouted several young men in chorus as d.i.c.k's dory neared the sh.o.r.e of the Nub. They stood on a broad, flat stone, for which the rock-weed had woven a brown mat, and on the crown of the ledge behind them rose a tent tipped with a dirty flag.

"Hurrah!" responded d.i.c.k.

"Hurrah!" shouted Dave.

"I thought, d.i.c.k," said Dave, "only Sam Whittles was here."

"Oh, these fellers came down last night. Just to spend a couple of days, you know."

"Who are they?"

"Oh, Jimmy Dawes, I believe, and there's Steve Pettigrew and a Keese Junkins."

Dave's feelings of like and dislike were very quick in their operation, and he now said to himself, "Don't fancy those specimens!"

They were showily rather than tastefully dressed, strutted about with a self-important air, and their talk was loud, coa.r.s.e, and slangy.

"Who is that little fellow?" asked Dave, noticing a small boy in the rear of the tent.

"Oh, that is a kind of servant they brought down with them. He came down, and waits on them just for his board. He is a queer chap, and makes fun for us all. We call him Dovey. Don't know what his real name is. Splendid place here for camp!"

"Tolman doesn't like it; says you can't get on or off easy."

"O Dave, Tolman is an old fogey. But here we are."

The boat was b.u.mping against the landing-rock, and d.i.c.k and Dave disembarked amid a chorus of "How are ye?" "Step ash.o.r.e!" and other friendly salutations. So cordial were these that Dave's dislike was put to sleep, and he said to himself, "They are pleasant. Good-hearted, I daresay."

The tent within was an a.s.sortment of bedding, camp-chests, old clothes, and provisions, all mixed up in great confusion. Dave thought the outside of the tent would be more agreeable than the inside, which was clouded with tobacco smoke. He took a seat without, and looked off upon the sea. It was a vivid summer day. All the colouring of nature was very bright and sharp. The sky was very blue; the clouds were very white; the water was very dark, and the foam of the breakers white as the flakes scattered by the storms of January. d.i.c.k and the others were discussing plans for dinner. As Dave sat alone, watching the white sails slowly drifting across the distant sea, a light hand was laid on his shoulder by some one who had stepped up behind him. It was not a big, coa.r.s.e hand, but a gentle pressure such as a child might make.

"Oh, it is the boy d.i.c.k told about," thought Dave; "it's that Dovey."

He looked up, and to his surprise there was Little Mew!

"Why, Bartie, you down here?" exclaimed Dave, turning and looking with interest at the small, twisted features of Bartholomew Trafton.

"Yes; and I am glad to see you. Did you get my letter?"

Bart had seated himself beside Dave, and rested his hand on Dave's knee as if he were a little boat gladly tying up to a friendly pier.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Bart seated himself beside Dave and rested his hand on his knee." _Page 97_.]]

"Yes, I got your letter, and it was a very nice one. There is a party, too, coming down to the lighthouse, and I thought you might be in it.

My sister will be one, I expect."

"Teacher?"

"Yes; and Mr. James Tolman, my teacher when I was in the school, is going to bring them."

"Oh, I wish I could go. I don't like it here."

As he spoke he turned his head and looked about as if to make sure that no one heard him save Dave.

"Well, how did you come here?"

"Reese Junkins," said Bartie, again looking back. "He lives near us. He came to the house and told gran'sir and granny they wanted a boy to go with them and just wait in the tent, and he would look after me, and I might like it. But I don't like it."

Here if his eyes had been straight, and Dave had followed their glance, he would have noticed that Bartie was looking at a basket of bottles near a rear corner of the tent.

"I don't like to be with such people; they make too much noise."

He bravely concealed the fact that they made fun of him, though his soul was vexed and torn by their unkind jokes.

"Well, you know d.i.c.k."