Billy Topsail & Company: A Story for Boys

This last thrust was too much for Archie’s dignity. He leaped from the deck of the Black Eagle into his own punt in a greater rage than ever.

“There’s t’ be a spell o’ rough weather,” were Skipper George’s last words.

The punt moved away.

“Skipper Bill,” said Archie, “the nearest telegraph station is at Tilt Cove. Can we make it in a night?”

“If the wind holds,” the skipper answered.

“Then we’ll try,” said Archie.

The predicament was explained to Donald North and Jimmie Grimm and Billy Topsail. The Spot Cash could have no more fish as long as the Black Eagle paid three eighty-five with the St. John’s market at three thirty-five. But was the market at three thirty-five? Hadn’t the Black Eagle later information? That must be found out; and from Tilt Cove it could be discovered in two hours. So up went the sails of the Spot Cash, and, with the Black Eagle following, she jockeyed out of the harbour. Presently, when she had laid a course for Cape John and Tilt Cove, the Black Eagle came about and beat back to Conch.

Next morning–and dirty weather was promised for the day–the Spot Cash dropped anchor in the shelter of the cliff at Tilt Cove and Billy Topsail pulled Archie ashore. It was in Archie’s heart to accuse his father’s firm of harsh dealing with a small competitor; but he resolved to do no more than ask the price of fish. The answer would be significant of all that the lad wished to know; and if the great firm of Armstrong & Company had determined to put obstacles in the way of Topsail, Armstrong, Grimm & Company, even to the point of ruin, there was no help for Topsail, Armstrong, Grimm & Company. Archie would ask no quarter.

“Make haste!” Skipper Bill called from the deck of the Spot Cash. “I’ve no love for this harbour in a gale o’ wind.”

It was poor shelter at best.

“Much as I can,” Archie shouted back.

The boy sent this telegram:

Tilt Cove, August 6

Armstrong & Company,

St. John’s.

Price of fish.

Topsail, Armstrong, Grimm & Company

There was now nothing to do but wait. Sir Archibald would be in his little office overlooking his wharves and shipping. It would not be long. And the reply presently came:

St. John’s, August 6

Topsail, Armstrong, Grimm & Company,

Aboard "Spot Cash,"

Tilt Cove.

Still three thirty-five. No rise probable.

Topsail, Armstrong, Grimm & Company

Archie Armstrong was hurt. He could hardly conceive that his father had planned the ruin of his undertaking and the loss of his honour. But what was left to think? Would the skipper and clerk of the Black Eagle deliberately court discharge? And discharge it would be–discharge in disgrace. There was no possible excuse for this amazing change in prices. No; there was no explanation but that they were proceeding upon Sir Archibald’s orders. It was inconceivable that they should be doing anything else. Archie would ask no quarter of his father; but he would at least let Sir Archibald know that he was aware of the difference between fair and unfair competition. Before he boarded the Spot Cash he dispatched this message:

Tilt Cove, August 6

Armstrong & Company,

St. John’s.

Tilt Cove.

“Black Eagle” paying three eighty-five. Underselling flour, pork, tea, sugar. Why don’t you play fair?

Topsail, Armstrong, Grimm & Company

If Archie Armstrong could have been in the little office which overlooked the wharves to observe the effect of that message upon Sir Archibald he would not only have been amazed but would have come to his senses in a good deal less time than he actually did. The first item astounded and bewildered Sir Archibald; the second–the brief expression of distrust–hurt him sorely. But he had no time to be sentimental. Three eighty-five for fish? What was the meaning of that? Cut prices on flour, pork, sugar and tea? What was the meaning of that? Sir Archibald saw in a flash what it meant to Topsail, Armstrong, Grimm & Company. But what did it mean to Armstrong & Company? Sir Archibald flushed and perspired with wrath. He pushed buttons–he roared orders–he scribbled telegrams. In ten minutes, so vociferous was his rage, so intense his purpose, it was known from one end of the establishment to the other that the Black Eagle must be communicated with at once.

But Armstrong & Company could not manage to communicate with the Black Eagle direct, it seemed. Armstrong & Company might, however, communicate with the Spot Cash, now at Tilt Cove and possibly bound north. Doubtless by favour of the clerk of the Spot Cash Armstrong & Company would be able to speak orders in the ear of Skipper George Rumm.

“Judd!” Sir Archibald roared.

The pale little clerk appeared on the bound.

“Rush this,” said Sir Archibald.

The message read:

St. John’s, August 6

Archibald Armstrong II,

On board “Spot Cash,”

Tilt Cove.

Please oblige order “Black Eagle” St. John’s forthwith. This your authority.

Armstrong & Company

CHAPTER XXVIII

In Which the “Spot Cash” is Caught By a Gale In the Night and Skipper Bill Gives Her Up For Lost

It was blowing up when Archie returned to the Spot Cash. There was a fine rain in the wind, too; and a mist–hardly yet a fog–was growing denser on the face of a whitening sea. Nothing to bother about yet, of course: only a smart breeze and a little tumble, with thick weather to make a skipper keep his eyes open. But there was the threat of heavy wind and a big sea in gray sky overhead and far out upon the water. Tilt Cove was no place for the Spot Cash to lie very long; she must look for shelter in Sop’s Arm before night.

“Archie, b’y,” said Bill o’ Burnt Bay, in the cozy forecastle with the boys, “there’s something queer about this here Black Eagle.”

“I should say so!” Archie sneered. “It’s the first time I ever knew my father not to play fair.”

“Bosh!” Skipper Bill ejaculated.

Archie started up in a rage.