Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. The Yacht Club; or, The Young Boat-Builder by Oliver Optic (chrome ebook reader .TXT) 📖
- Author: Oliver Optic
Book online «The Yacht Club; or, The Young Boat-Builder by Oliver Optic (chrome ebook reader .TXT) 📖». Author Oliver Optic
"Does he own the Juno?" asked Captain Patterdale, quietly.[196]
"I suppose he does."
"How is that, Don John?" added the captain.
"Yes, sir, he owns her; Captain Shivernock got tired of the Juno, and Laud bought her."
Captain Patterdale made a note of that piece of information, and regarded it as a clew to assist in the discovery of the tin box, which had not yet been found, though the owner and the deputy sheriff had been looking diligently for it ever since its disappearance.
"What did he pay for her?" inquired Captain Patterdale.
"Three hundred and fifty dollars," answered Donald, who hoped he would not be asked of whom Laud had bought the Juno.
The captain did not ask the question, for it seemed to be self-evident that he had purchased her of Captain Shivernock. Indeed, nothing more was said about the matter. A dance on the shaven lawn followed the collation, and the guests remained until the dews of evening began to fall. Donald walked home with Nellie, and then went to the shop. He expected to find Hasbrook there, but he had returned to Lincolnville. He saw that the sails for the Maud had been sent down during[197] his absence, and on the desk lay the bill for them, enclosed in an envelope, directed to "Messrs. Ramsay & Son." While he was looking at it, Mr. Leach, the sail-maker, entered the shop. He had come to look after his money, for possibly he had not entire confidence in the financial stability of the firm.
"Have you looked over those sails, Don John?" asked Leach.
"Not yet; it is rather too dark to examine them to-night," replied Donald.
"That's the best suit of sails I ever made," added the sail-maker. "You said you wanted the best that could be had."
"I did." And Donald unrolled them. "They look like a good job."
"If they are not as good as anything that ever went on a boat, I'll make you another suit for nothing. I was in hopes you would look them over to-night. I don't want to trouble you, Don John, but I'm a little short of money. Captain Patterdale has a mortgage on my house, and I like to pay the interest on it the day it is due. You said you would let me have the money when the sails were delivered."
"And so I will."[198]
"If they are not all right, I will make them so," added Leach. "I should like to pay the captain my interest money to-night, if I can."
"You can. I will go into the house and get the money."
Donald went to his room in the cottage, and took from their hiding-place the bills which had been paid to him by Laud Cavendish for the Juno. Without this he had not enough to pay the sail-maker. He did not like to use this money, for he was not fully satisfied that Laud would not get into trouble on account of it, or that he might not himself have some difficulty with Captain Shivernock. He feared that he should be called upon to refund this money; but Mr. Rodman would pay him another instalment of the price of the Maud in a few days, and he should then be in condition to meet any demand upon him. Laud had paid him seven fifty-dollar bills, and he put them in his pocket. As he passed through the kitchen, he lighted the lantern, and returned to the shop.
"I didn't mean to dun you up so sharp for this bill," said Leach; "but I haven't a dollar in my pocket at this minute, and I am very anxious to be punctual in the payment of my interest."[199]
"It's all right; I had as lief pay it now as at any other time. In fact, I like to pay up as soon as the work is done," replied Donald, as he handed the sail-maker three of the fifty-dollar bills, which was the price agreed upon for the sails, five in number.
Leach looked carefully at each of the bills. All of them were quite new and fresh, and one was peculiar enough to attract the attention of any one through whose hands it might pass. It was just like the others, but at some period, not very remote in its history, it had been torn into four parts. It might have been in a sheet of note paper, torn up by some one who did not know the bill was between the leaves. It had been mended with two narrow slips of thin, white paper, extending across the length and width of the bill, like the horizontal white cross on the flag of Denmark.
"That bill has been in four pieces," said Leach, as he turned it over and examined it; "but I suppose it is good."
"If it is not, I will give you another for it," answered Donald.
"It is all here; so I think it is all right. I wonder who tore it up."[200]
"I don't know; it was so when I took it."
"I am very much obliged to you, Don John; and the next time I make a suit of sails for you, you needn't pay me till you get ready," said the sail-maker, as he put the money in his wallet.
"I didn't pay for this suit till I got ready," laughed the boat-builder; "and when you get up another, I hope I shall be able to pay you the cash for them."
Leach left the shop a happy man; for most men are cheerful when they have plenty of money in their pocket. He was more especially happy because, being an honest man, he was able now to pay the interest on the mortgage note on the day it was due. He had worked half the night before in order to finish the sails, so that he might get the money to pay it. With a light step, therefore, he walked to the elegant mansion of Captain Patterdale, and rang the bell at the library door. There was a light in the room, which indicated that the captain was at home. He was admitted by the nabob himself, who answered his own bell at this door.
"I suppose you thought I wasn't going to pay my interest on the day it was due," said Leach, with a cheerful smile.
The Sail-maker's Bill. Page 199.
[201]
"On the contrary, I didn't think anything at all about it," replied Captain Patterdale. "I was not even aware that your interest was due to-day."
"I came pretty near not paying it, for work has been rather slack this season; but the firm of Ramsay & Son helped me out by paying me promptly for the sails I made for the Maud."
"Ramsay & Son is a great concern," laughed the nabob.
"It pays promptly; and that's more than all of them do," added Leach, drawing his wallet from his pocket.
"I haven't your note by me, Mr. Leach," said Captain Patterdale; but he did not consider it necessary to state that the important document was at that moment in the tin box, wherever the said tin box might be. "I will give you a receipt for the amount you pay, and indorse it upon the note when I have it."
"All right, captain."
"Do you know how much the interest is? I am sure I have forgotten," added the rich man.
"I ought to know. I have had to work too hard to get the money in time to forget how much it was. It is just seventy dollars," answered Leach.[202]
"You needn't pay it now, if you are short."
"I'm not short now. I'm flush, for which I thank Don John," said the sail-maker, as he placed two of the fifty-dollar bills on the desk, at which the captain was writing the receipt.
The uppermost of the two bills was the mended one, for Leach thought if there was any doubt in regard to this, it ought to be known at once. If the nabob would take it, the matter was settled. Captain Patterdale wrote the receipt, and did not at once glance at the money.
"There's a hundred, captain," added the sail-maker.
The rich man picked up the bills, and turned over the upper one. If he did not start, it was not because he was not surprised. He was utterly confounded when he saw that bill, and his thoughts flashed quickly through his mind. But he did not betray his thoughts or his emotions, quick as were the former, and intense as were the latter. He took up the mended bill, and looked it over several times.
"That's the white cross of Denmark," said he, suppressing his emotions.
"Isn't the bill good?" asked the sail-maker.[203]
"Good as gold for eighty-eight cents on a dollar," replied the captain.
"Then it is not good," added Leach, who did not quite comprehend the nabob's mathematics.
"Yes, it is."
"But you say it is worth only eighty-eight cents on a dollar."
"That is all any paper dollar is worth when gold is a little rising fourteen per cent. premium. The bill is perfectly good, in spite of the white cross upon it. You want thirty dollars change."
The captain counted out this sum, and handed it to the debtor.
"If the bill isn't good, I can give you another," replied Leach, as he took the money.
"It is a good bill, and I prefer it to any other for certain reasons of my own. It has the white cross of Denmark upon it; at least, the white bars on this bill remind me of the flag of that nation."
"It's like a flag—is it?" added the sail-maker, who did not understand the rich man's allusion.
"Like the flag of Denmark. I made a voyage to Copenhagen once, and this bill reminds me of the merchant's flag, which has a couple of white bars across a red ground. Where did you say you got this bill, Mr. Leach?"[204]
"Don John gave it to me, not half an hour ago."
"It has been torn into quarters some time, and the pieces put together again. Did Don John mend the bill himself?"
"No, sir; he says the bill is just as it was when he received it. I looked at it pretty sharp when I took it; but he said if it wasn't good, he would give me another."
"It is perfectly good. Did he tell you where he got the bill?" asked Captain Patterdale, manifesting none of the emotion which agitated him.
"No, sir; he did not. I didn't ask him. If it makes any difference, I will do so."
"It makes no difference whatever. It is all right, Mr. Leach."
The sail-maker folded up his receipt, and left the library. He went home with eighty dollars in his pocket, entirely satisfied with himself, with the nabob, and especially with the firm of Ramsay & Son. He did not care a straw about the white cross of Denmark, so long as the bill was good. Captain Patterdale was deeply interested in the bill which bore this mark, and possibly he expected to conquer by this sign. He was not so much interested in the bill because he had made a voyage[205] up the Baltic and seen the white cross there, as because he had seen it on a bill in that tin box. He was not only interested, but he was anxious, for the active member of the firm of Ramsay & Son seemed to be implicated in a very unfortunate and criminal transaction.
More than once Captain Patterdale had observed the pleasant relations between Don John and his fair daughter. As Nellie was a very pretty girl, intelligent, well educated, and agreeable, and in due time would be the heiress of a quarter or a half million, as the case might be, he was rather particular in regard to the friendships she contracted with the young gentlemen of the city. Possibly he did not approve the intimacy between them. But whatever opinions he may have entertained in regard to the equality of social relations between his daughter and the future partner of her joys and sorrows, we must do him the justice to say that he preferred honor and honesty to wealth and position in the gentleman whom Nellie might choose for her life companion. The suspicion, or rather the conviction, forced upon him by "the white cross of Denmark," that Donald was neither honest nor honorable, was vastly more painful than[206] the fact that he was poor, and was the son of a mere ship carpenter.
Certainly Nellie did like the young man, though, as she was hardly more than a child, it might be a fancy that would pass away when she realized the difference between the daughter of a nabob and the son of a ship carpenter. While he was thinking of the subject, Nellie entered the library, as she generally did when her father was alone there. She was his only confidant
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