Part 5 (1/2)
Merritt paused the next morning in front of Tubby's home, and gave the ”call” of the Eagle Patrol with a not uncreditable resemblance to the scream of a real eagle.
The cry was instantly echoed--though in a rather thicker way--from inside the house, and in a minute Tubby, who knew that some one of the patrol must have uttered the call, appeared at his door, munching a large slice of bread and jam, although it was not more than an hour since breakfast.
”Say, you, did you ever hear an eagle scream with his mouth full of bread and jam?” demanded Merritt, as the stout youth appeared.
”Eagles don't eat bread and jam,” rejoined Tubby, defending his position. ”Have some?”
”Having had breakfast not more than an hour ago, I'm not hungry yet, thank you,” politely rejoined the corporal; ”besides, I'm afraid I'd get fat.”
Dodging the stout youth's blow, the corporal went on:
”Heard the news?”
”No--what news?” eagerly demanded the other, finis.h.i.+ng his light repast.
”Why, the Dolphin--you know, that fis.h.i.+ng boat--picked up Sam's hydroplane at sea and towed it in. It's in pretty good shape, I hear, although the engine is out of commission and it was half full of water.”
”He's a lucky fellow to get it back.”
”I should say so,” replied Merritt; ”but it will cost him a whole lot to reclaim it. The captain of the Dolphin says he wants fifty dollars for it as salvage.”
”Gee! Do you think Sam's father will give him that much?” said Tubby, with round eyes.
”I don't know. He can afford it all right. He's made a lot of money out of that boat-building shop, my father says; but he's so stingy that I doubt very much if he will give Sam such a sum.”
”Why, here's Sam coming down the street now,” exclaimed the good-natured Tubby. ”I wonder if he's heard about it. Hullo, Sam!
Get all the water out of your system?”
”I'm all right this morning, if that is what you mean,” rejoined the other, with dignity.
”Heard the news about your boat?” asked Merritt suddenly.
”No; what about her? Is she safe? Who picked her up?”
”Wait a minute. One question at a time,” laughed Merritt. ”She's safe, all right. The Dolphin picked her up at sea. But it will cost you fifty dollars to get her.”
”Fifty dollars!” gasped Sam, turning pale.
”That's what the skipper of the Dolphin says. He had a lot of trouble getting a line fast to her, he says, and he means to have the money or keep the boat.”
”Oh, well, I'll get it from my father easily enough,” said Sam confidently, preparing to swagger off down the street. ”I've got to get my boat back and beat Rob's Flying Fish, and that hydroplane can do it.”
”Can you match that?” exclaimed Merritt to the fat youth, as Sam strolled away. ”Here he was saved from drowning by the Flying Fish only yesterday, and all he can think of this morning is to promise to beat her. What makes him so mean, I wonder?”
”Just born that way, I guess,” rejoined the stout youth; ”and as for the Flying Fish saving him, if it hadn't been for a certain Corporal Crawford, he--”
”Here, stow that,” protested Merritt, coloring up. ”I heard enough of that yesterday afternoon.”
As the boys had surmised, Sam's father was not at all pleased when he learned that his son wanted fifty dollars. In fact, he refused point blank to let him have it at all.
”That boat of yours has cost enough already, and I'm not going to spend any more on it,” he said angrily, as he turned to his work.