"It's a dirty lie, Caleb, whoever said it. I wouldn't believe it if I see it myself. Ain't no better gal 'n Betty ever breathed. Go with you! Course I will's soon's I get my clo'es on." He dressed hurriedly, caught up his oilskins, flung wide the shanty door, and made his way over the platforms towards the wharf.
When they reached the little cove in the rocks below, where the smaller boats were always sheltered, and he saw the sharpie, he stopped short.
"You ain't come out here in that, Caleb?"
"It was all I could get; there warn't nothin' else handy, Cap'n Joe."
The captain looked the frail sharpie over from stem to stern, and then called to Nickles: "Bring down one 'er them empty ker'sene five-gallon cans; we got some bailin' to do, I tell ye, 'fore we make Keyport Light. No, there ain't nothin' up," noticing Nickles's anxious face. "Caleb wants me to Keyport,--that's all. Get breakfast, and tell the men, when they turn out, that I'll be back to-morrow in the Screamer, if it smooths down."
Caleb took his seat on the windward side of the tossing boat, holding the sheet. The captain sat in the stern, one hand on the tiller. The kerosene-can lay at their feet. The knees of the two men touched.
No better sailors ever guided a boat, and none ever realized more clearly the dangers of their position.
The captain settled himself in his seat in silence, his eyes watching every wave that raced by, and laid his course towards the white tower five miles away, blurred gray in the driving rain. Caleb held the sheet, his eyes facing the long, low line of hills where his cabin lay. As he hauled the sheet closer a heavy sigh broke from him. It was the first time since he had known Betty that he had set his face homeward without a thrill of delight filling his heart. Captain Joe heard the smothered sigh, and, without turning his head, laid his great hand with its stiff thole-pin fingers tenderly on Caleb's wrist. These two men knew each other.
"I wouldn't worry, Caleb," he said, after a little. "That butcher sees too much, an' sometimes he don't know nothin'. He's allers got some cock-an'-bull story 'bout somebody 'r other. Only las' week he come inter Gardiner's drug store with a yarn 'bout the old man bein' pisened, when it warn't nothin' but cramps. Ease a little, Caleb--s-o. Seems to me it's blowin' harder."