Victor sat on the amidships thwart of the dingy, with his back to me.But Miss Colton, seated in the stern, was facing me and Icould not help looking at her.She did not look at me, or, if she did, it was as if I were merely a part of the view; nothing to be interested in, one way or the other.
She was beautiful; there was no doubt of that.Prettier even, in the blue and white boating costume and rough-and-ready white felt hat, than she had seemed when I saw her in the auto or her father's library.She represented the world that I had lost.I had known girls like her.They had not as much money as she, perhaps, but they were just as well-bred and refined, and almost as pretty.Ihad associated with them as an equal.I wondered what she would say, or think, if she knew that.Nothing, probably; she would not care enough to think at all.It did not matter to me what she thought; but I did wish I had not put on those fool oilskins.Imust look more like a country longshoreman than ever.
If I had any doubts about it they were dispelled when I had rowed the two boats up the bay until we were abreast the Colton mansion.
Then Victor, who had been talking in a low tone with his fellow passenger in the dingy, looked at the distant shore and, over his shoulder, at me.
"Here!" he shouted."Where are you going? That's the landing over there.""I know," I answered."But we shall have to go around that flat.
We can't cross here."
"Why? What's the reason we can't?"
"Because there isn't water enough.We should get aground."He stood up to look.
"Nonsense!" he said."There's plenty of water.I can't see any flat, or whatever you call it.""It's there, though you can't see it.It is covered with eelgrass and doesn't show.We shall have to go a half mile further before we turn in.""A half mile! Why, confound it! it's past one o'clock now.We haven't any time to waste.""I'm sorry, but we can't cross yet.And, if I were you, Ishouldn't stand up in that boat."
He paid no attention to this suggestion.
"There are half a dozen boats, bigger than these, by the landing,"he declared."There is water enough for them.What are you afraid of? We haven't any time to waste, I tell you."I did not answer.Silence, on my part, was the safest thing just then.I continued rowing up the bay.
Miss Colton spoke to him and he sat down, a proceeding for which Iwas thankful.They whispered together for a moment.Then he turned to me.
"See here," he said; "this lady and I have an appointment.We must get ashore.Go straight in.If you're afraid I'll take the risk.
If there is any danger I'll pay for that, too."There was no question of risk.It was a certainty.I knew that channel.
"We can't cross here," I said, shortly.
"Why, confound you--"
"Victor!" cautioned Miss Colton.
"Hush, Mabel! This is ridiculous.You and I saw two boats go straight out from the beach this morning.We went out that way ourselves.Here you--Paine, or whatever your name is--we've had enough of this.I've hired you to take us ashore, and I want to go there and not a half mile in another direction.Will you do as Itell you?"
When the dingy and the other boats crossed the flat the tide had been hours higher, of course; but I was in no mood to explain--to him.
"No," I said, shortly.
"You won't? Then you give me an oar and I'll row the rest of the way myself."There were only two oars in the skiff, but I could get on perfectly well with one.And it would serve him beautifully right to let him go.But there was the girl.I hesitated.
"Give me that oar," he repeated, angrily."You won't? Then, by Jove, I'll do without it.Stop! Stop where you are! do you understand.We don't require your services any longer."He turned and began untying the tow line.I stopped rowing.
Miss Colton looked troubled.
"Victor!" she cried."What are you doing?""I know what I'm doing.Can't you see this fellow's game? The longer the row the higher his price, that's all.He can't work me.
I've seen his kind before.Don't be frightened.If we can't do anything else we can anchor and wait until they see us from the house."Idiot! At that point the channel was deep and the bottom soft mud.
I doubted if his anchor would touch and, if it did, I knew it would not hold.I backed water and brought the skiff alongside the dingy, the rail of which I seized and held.
"Keep off!" ordered Victor, still fumbling with the rope."We don't want your help."I wasted no breath on him.I addressed my remarks to the girl.
"Miss Colton," I said, "will you listen to me, please.You can't anchor here because your anchor will not hold.And you can't cross that flat at this stage of the tide.I can give you an oar, of course, but it won't do any good.My oars are too light and small for your boat.Unless you wish to drift back where you were, or beyond, you must let me tow you around the head of this flat."I don't know what answer she might have made.None, perhaps;although I am sure she was listening.But Victor, who had succeeded in untying the tow line, cut in ahead of her.
"Mabel," he warned, "don't pay any attention to him.Didn't your father tell us what he was? There!" throwing the end of the rope overboard and addressing me; "now, you may clear out.We've done with you.Understand?"I looked at Miss Colton.But I might as well have looked at an iceberg.I slid one of my oars over into the dingy.
"There you are," I said, grimly."But I warn you that you're in for trouble."I let go of the rail and the boats fell apart.Victor seized the borrowed oar with a triumphant laugh.
"Your bluff wouldn't work, would it, Reuben," he sneered."I'll send you the oar and your pay later.Now, Mabel, sit tight.I'll have you ashore in fifteen minutes."He began rowing toward the weed-covered flat.I said nothing.Iwas furiously angry and it was some moments before I recovered self-possession sufficiently to get my remaining oar over the skiff's stern and, by sculling, hold her against the tide.Then Iwatched and waited.
