From Mrs. Arkell’s we walked back to Clancy’s boarding house. Clancy wanted to see how they made out with the punch. We found several of them up in the wind, and so no great danger of them. But two or three of them, Dave Campbell particularly, were running wild. “Boomed out and driving,” said Clancy, and began to remonstrate with Dave on the evils of intemperance. He went on quite awhile, but Dave showed no signs of remorse. “Wait and I’ll fix him,” said Clancy, and obeying a motioning with his head two or three of the sober ones followed him out.

He led the way to the wood-shed next door where there was a goat, and the goat we carried up three flights of stairs to Campbell’s room. He was a big, able goat, and we had quite a time to get him up stairs. At last we got him tied to the post of Campbell’s bed. Then we went down stairs to the kitchen and Clancy persuaded Campbell to go up stairs to bed, which after awhile he did. It was not yet morning and there was no light in the bedroom. 231 We took our position on the landing outside where we could hear everything that went on in Campbell’s room, which was just at the head of the stairs.

Dave went in and we could hear him falling over something in the dark. “What’s it?” we could hear him, and acting as if he was feeling around. Taking off our shoes we crawled nearer. We could barely make out his shadow in the dark, but we could easily hear him talking to himself. “What’s it? Eh, what?” He must have been feeling the horns then, and the goat must have butted him. Again, and once more, for out the door and down the stairs went Dave. We ran in and cut the goat loose and down he went after Dave. The whole three flights they raced.

“He’s got me at last,” hollered Dave, bolting into the kitchen, slamming the door behind him and bracing himself against it.

We took the goat and put him back in the wood-shed and came back to the kitchen by way of the window. Dave, who was still braced against the door, did not know but what we had been in the kitchen all the time, and that gave Clancy a fine chance to take up his lecture on intemperance just where he had left it off,––at the very beginning. “Intemperance, Dave, is an awful thing. You’ll have to be doing something for it soon, I think. 232 Yes, when the devil himself gives you a call it’s time to do something. You’d better come with me and take the pledge. Come up now to Father Haley.”

“I’m a Pres––a Pres––a Pres––by––ter––ian, Tommie.”

“Well, come with me to your church then––any church at all. What’s the odds, so long’s you reform. Here, we’ll do it right here now. Come, hold up your hand,” and then and there Clancy was about to get Dave to promise not to look a glass of liquor or punch in the face for a year again, when who comes bouncing in but Eddie Parsons.

“Hurroo!” said Clancy, forgetting Dave and grabbing Eddie by the shoulder, “and the Duncan’s home?”

“She is,” said Eddie, “and four hundred and fifty barrels of mackerel coming out of her hold. A dozen lumpers getting ’em out from both holds and two at a lick they’re coming onto Duncan’s Dock. And what d’y’think, Tommie–––”

“But what kept you so long, man? We’ve all been getting heart disease waiting for you.”

“I know. We ought to’ve been in yesterday mornin’, or in the afternoon at the latest, for we swung her off Tuesday night midnight––plenty of time with a fair wind. But on Wednesday afternoon, coming like a race-horse––wung out––we sighted a dory and two men in it signalizing. 233 Astray they were, and we took ’em aboard, and all that night we stood by. And warn’t it chafing? Oh, no! Daylight came thick and we waited for it to clear, keeping the horn goin’. It lifted and we got another dory, but it was late afternoon then. Then their vessel came along with all the others accounted for, and we turned over our two and went on our way. And maybe she didn’t come! Oh, no! Blowing? A living gale all the time, but the skipper kept her going. You’d hardly b’lieve if I told you where we was yesterday afternoon and we here now. A no’the-easter and a howler all the way. At four o’clock we passed in by the bell-buoy. Man, such a blow! Are we in the race, you say? Are we! And oh, the skipper says for you and Joe to be down after breakfast. We all knew you’d get home and be all right with Tom O’Donnell. So be down after breakfast––the skipper will be looking for you both. But say, let me tell you. What d’y’think? Coming into the harbor a while ago who d’y’ s’pose was out in the stream with a lighter alongside his vessel? Who but Sam Hollis and the Withrow. Yes, and the gang putting ballast back in her.”

“No?”

“Yes. And some one of them sees us going by in the dark. And we did go by, too! ‘Lord!’ says somebody––’twas Withrow himself––‘but if that don’t look like the ghost of Maurice Blake’s vessel!’ 234 ‘Yes,’ hollers back the skipper––and they must’ve been some surprised to hear him––‘and the ghost’ll be with you to-morrow in the race. Yes,’ the skipper says, ‘and we’re all ready for it. Four weeks since we’ve been on the ways and maybe a scrubbing wouldn’t hurt her, but if it keeps a-blowin’ who’ll mind that? Not the Johnnie.’ Oh, Tommie, if you’d seen her comin’ across the Bay of Fundy yesterday afternoon and last night. Did she come?––did she come? Lord––O Lord–––”

“And so that’s Withrow––got his vessel tuned up like a fiddle and now he’s putting extra ballast in her. Blast him and Hollis for schemers!” said Clancy. “And that’s how it comes they’re so ready to bet––stiffenin’ her so stiff for to-morrow that they know something’ll happen to the others first. But the Johnnie’s a bit stiff, too––and there’s no ballast out of her. And, as the skipper says, maybe we ain’t been on the ways for a few weeks now, but Lord, the Johnnie ought to be able to drag a few little blades of sea-grass on her hull in this breeze. And so we’re in the race, heh? Dave, I can’t stop to give you the pledge now––

And Clancy was the joyful man as he awoke the echoes in the gray of that stormy morning.