The squire scowled at Captain Sam, who kept on with his work; but the squire made no reply. “I should er thought some of you vessel-owners that have got the rigging handy would have dragged her out for yourselves,” continued Captain Sam. “I had a mind to do it myself this spring, but I was too busy.” The squire sniffed as though exasperated at something. But Captain Sam, stitching away, with an enormous sailmaker’s needle strapped to his palm, was apparently unmindful. No one would have thought, to look at his serious face, that he had heard the whole history of the squire’s venture down in the Thoroughfare, through the expedition of Harry Brackett, and that he was indulging in a little quiet fun at the squire’s expense. “Why, what on earth should I do with another boat?” inquired the squire. “The one I own is one too many for me now. I’d like to sell her if I got a good offer.” “Would yer?” queried Captain Sam. “Well, you’ll get a good boat in her place if you get the _Viking_. I hear you are trying to buy her.” “Nonsense!” exclaimed the squire. “Who told you that?” “Why, Jack Harvey; he was in here a little while ago. He said as how your son, Harry, offered him fifteen hundred dollars for the boat.” “Fifteen hundred fiddlesticks!” roared the squire. “If he’s got fifteen hundred cents left out of his allowance, he’s got more than I think he has. That’s a likely story. Well, you can just put it down in black and white that I don’t pay any fifteen hundred dollars for a boat for a lot of boys to play monkey-shines with. I’ll see about that.” “Perhaps it’s one of Harry’s little jokes, squire,” suggested Captain Sam. “Boys will have their fun, you know.” Captain Sam threw his head back and gave a loud haw-haw. His recollection of Harry Brackett’s most recent fun was of seeing that youth tearing along the highway at night, with a dozen fishermen after him, armed with horsewhips. The squire’s conception of it was not so pleasant, however, and he took his departure. “Harry,” he said, at the dinner-table that day, “what’s this I hear about your trying to buy that boat of Jack Harvey?” Harry Brackett, taken somewhat by surprise, hesitated for a moment. “Why—why—that was a sort of a joke,” he answered, finally, forcing himself to smile, as though he thought it funny. “A joke, eh?” retorted the squire, sharply. “Well, don’t you think you have had joking enough to last you one spell? Here it is getting so I can’t go down the road without folks looking at me and grinning. Haven’t you any respect for your father’s dignity? Don’t you know I’m of some consequence in this town?” “Yes, sir,” replied the son, dutifully. “But I didn’t bring your name into it. I didn’t say you wanted it.” “Well, what did you do it for?” repeated the squire. “Just for fun,” insisted Harry Brackett.