"'Gettin' dark, Tom,' says Sam.
"'Ay,' says Tom; ''tis growin' wonderful cold an' dark out here. I knows it well. Put me ashore on the ice, lads,' says he.
"We landed Tom, then, on a near-by pan. He would have it so.
"'Leave me have my way!' says he. 'I've done a good stroke o' business.'
"Presently we took ol' Skinflint aboard in Tom's stead; an' jus' for a minute we hung off Tom's pan t' say good-bye.
"'I sends my love t' the wife an' the children,' says he. 'You'll not fail t' remember. She'll know why I done this thing. Tell her 'twas a grand chance an' I took it.'
"'Ay, Tom.'
"'Fetch in here close,' says Tom. 'I wants t' talk t' the ol' skinflint you got aboard there. I'll have my say, ecod, at last! Ye crab!' says he, shakin' his fist in Skinflint's face when the rodney got alongside. 'Ye robber! Ye pinch-a-penny! Ye liar! Ye thief! I done ye! Hear me? I done ye! I vowed I'd even scores with ye afore I died. An' I've done it – I've done it! What did ye buy? Twenty years o' my life! What will ye pay for? Twenty years o' my life!'
"An' Tom laughed. An' then he cut a caper, an' come close t' the edge o' the pan, an' shook his fist in Skinflint's face again.
"'Know what I found out from Doctor Luke?' says he. 'I seen Doctor Luke, ye crab! Know what he told me? No, ye don't! Twenty years o' my life this here ol' skinflint will pay for!' he crowed. 'Two thousand dollars he'll put in the hands o' my poor wife!'
"Well, well! The rodney was movin' away. An' a swirl o' snow shrouded poor Tom West. But we heard un laugh once more.
"'My heart has give 'way!' he yelled. 'I didn't have three months t' live! An' Doctor Luke tol' me so!'
"Well, now, sir," Skipper Joe concluded, "Skinflint done what he said he would do. He laid the money in the hands o' Tom West's wife last week. But a queer thing happened next day. Up went the price o' pork at Skinflint's shop! And up went the price o' tea an' molasses! An' up went the price o' flour!"
CHAPTER XXII
In Which Doctor Luke and Billy Topsail Go North, and at Candlestick Cove, Returning, Doctor Luke Finds Himself Just a Bit Peckish
A rumour came to Our Harbour, by the tongue of a fur-trader, who stopped over night at Doctor Luke's hospital, on his way to the South, that there was sickness in the North – some need or other; the fur-trader was not sure what. Winter still lingered. The mild spell, which had interrupted the journey of Billy Topsail and Teddy Brisk across Schooner Bay, had been a mere taste of spring. Hard weather had followed. Schooner Bay was once more jammed with ice, which had drifted back – jammed and frozen solid; and the way from Our Harbour to Tight Cove was secure. Teddy Brisk was ready to be moved; and this being so, and the lad being homesick for his mother, and the rumour of need in the North coming down – all this being so, Doctor Luke determined all at once to revisit the northern outports for the last time that winter.
"Are you ready for home, Teddy?" said he.
"I is that, sir!"
"Well," Doctor Luke concluded, "there is no reason why you should not be home. I'll harness the dogs to-morrow and take you across Schooner Bay on the komatik."
"Billy Topsail comin', sir?"
"What say, Billy?"
"May I go, sir?"
"You may."
"All the way, sir?"
"All the way!" cried Doctor Luke. "Why, boy, I'm going north to – "
"Please, sir!"
"Well, well! If you've the mind. Come along, boy. I'll be glad to have you."
Teddy Brisk was taken across Schooner Bay and restored to his mother's arms. And Doctor Luke and Billy Topsail drove the dogs north on Doctor Luke's successful round of visits.
It was on the return journey that Doctor Luke and Billy Topsail fell in with the Little Fiddler of Amen Island. At Candlestick Cove they were to feed the dogs and put up for the night. It was still treacherous March weather; and the night threatened foul – a flurry of snow falling and the sky overcast with a thickening drab scud. Day was done when Doctor Luke and Billy Topsail crawled out of the timber and scurried down Twist Hill. In the early dusk the lights were already twinkling yellow and warm in the cottages below; and from the crest of the long hill, in the last of the light, Amen Island was visible, an outlying shadow, across Ships' Run.
There were still sixty miles left of Doctor Luke's round – this second winter round from Our Harbour to the lonely huts of Laughter Bight, thirty miles north of Cape Blind, touching all the harbours between, and by way of Thunder Tickle and Candlestick Cove, which lay midway, back to the shaded lamp and radiant open fire of the little surgery at Our Harbour.
As the dogs scurried down Twist Hill, whimpering and snarling, eager to make an end of a hard day, Doctor Luke visioned those wintry miles and reflected upon the propriety of omitting a call at Amen Island.
Doctor Luke and Billy Topsail drew up at Mild Jim Cull's.
"Skipper James," said Doctor Luke, in the kitchen, across the lamp-lit, devastated supper table, an hour later, "what's the health of Amen Island?"
"They're all well, sir – so far as I knows."
"All well? Just my luck! Then I won't – "
"Amanda," Skipper James admonished his wife, in a grieved whisper, "the Doctor is wantin' another cup o' tea."
The good woman was astonished.
"He've had – " she began.
Then she blushed – and grasped the pot in a fluster – and —
"Thank you – no more," the Doctor protested.
"Ah, now, sir – "
"No more. Really, you know! I've quite finished. I – well – I – if you please, Mrs. Cull. Half a cup. No more. Thank you."
"An' Billy Topsail, too," said Skipper James.
Billy was abashed.
"No – really!" he began. "I – well – thank you – half a cup!"
"All fit an' well, sir, as I says," Skipper James repeated, relieved, now resuming his conversation with Doctor Luke – "so far as I knows."
"Anybody come across Ships' Run lately?"
"Well, no, sir – nobody but ol' Jack Hulk. Another slice o' pork, Doctor?"
The youngest little Cull tittered, astounded:
"He've had – "