Sea Urchins | Page 6

into the darkness. A little knot of people had
gathered on the shore, and, receiving the tidings, became anxious for
the safety of their town. It was felt that the windows, at least, were in
imminent peril, and messengers were hastily sent round to have them
opened.
Still the deserted Susan Jane made no sign. Twelve o'clock struck from
the little church at the back of the town, and she was still intact.
"Something's gone wrong," said an old fisherman with a bad way of
putting things. "Now's the time for somebody to go and tow her out to
sea."
There was no response.
"To save Lowport," said the speaker feelingly.. "If I was only twenty
years younger--"
"It's old men's work," said a voice.
The skipper, straining his eyes through the gloom in the direction of his
craft, said nothing. He began to think that she had escaped after all.
Two o'clock struck, and the crowd began to disperse..Some of the

bolder inhabitants who were fidgety about draughts closed their
windows, and children who had been routed out of their beds to take a
nocturnal walk inland were led slowly back. By three o'clock the
danger was felt to be over, and day broke and revealed the forlorn
Susan Jane still riding at anchor.
"I'm going aboard," said the skipper suddenly; "who's coming with
me?"
Jem and the mate and the town policeman volunteered, and, borrowing
the boat which had served them before, pulled swiftly out to their
vessel, and, taking the hatches off with unusual gentleness, commenced
their search. It was nervous work at first, but they became inured to it,
and, moreover, a certain suspicion, slight at first, but increasing in
intensity as the search proceeded, gave them some sense of security.
Later still they began to eye each other shamefacedly.
"I don't believe there's anything there," said the policeman, sitting down
and laughing boisterously; "that boy's been making a fool of you."
"That's about the size of it," groaned the mate. "We'll be the
laughing-stock o' the town."
The skipper, who was standing with his back towards him, said nothing;
but, peering about, stooped suddenly, and, with a sharp exclamation,
picked up something from behind a damaged case.
"I've got it," he yelled suddenly; "stand clear!"
He scrambled hastily on deck, and, holding his find at arm's length,
with his head averted, flung it far into the water. A loud cheer from a
couple of boats which were watching greeted his action, and a distant
response came from the shore.
"Was that a infernal machine?" whispered the bewildered Jem to the
mate. "Why, it looked to me just like one o' them tins o' corned beef."
The mate shook his head at him and glanced at the constable, who was

gazing longingly over the side. "Well, I've 'eard of people being killed
by them sometimes," he said with a grin.

A SAFETY MATCH.
Mr. Boom, late of the mercantile marine, had the last word, but only by
the cowardly expedient of getting out of earshot of his daughter first,
and then hurling it at her with a voice trained to compete with
hurricanes. Miss Boom avoided a complete defeat by leaning forward
with her head on one side in the attitude of an eager but unsuccessful
listener, a pose which she abandoned for one of innocent joy when her
sire, having been deluded into twice repeating his remarks, was fain to
relieve his overstrained muscles by a fit of violent coughing.
"I b'lieve she heard it all along," said Mr. Boom sourly, as he continued
his way down the winding lane to the little harbour below. "The only
way to live at peace with wimmen is to always be at sea; then they
make a fuss of you when you come home--if you don't stay too long,
that is."
He reached the quay, with its few tiny cottages, and brown nets spread
about to dry in the sun, and walking up and down, grumbling, regarded
with jaundiced eye a few small smacks which lay in the harbour, and
two or three crusted amphibians lounging aimlessly about.
"Mornin', Mr. Boom," said a stalwart youth in sea-boots, appearing
suddenly over the edge of the quay from his boat.
"Mornin', Dick," said Mr. Boom affably; "just goin' off?"
"'Bout an hour's time," said the other: "Miss Boom well, sir?"
"She's a' right," said Mr. Boom; "me an' her 've just had a few words.
She picked up something off the floor what she said was a cake o' mud
off my heel. Said she wouldn't have it," continued Mr. Boom, his voice
rising. "My own floor too. Swep' it up off the floor with a dustpan and
brush, and held it in front of me to look at."

Dick Tarrell gave