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Updated: June 9, 2025
"I was running in the old hooker, Sally Smith, from Portland to New York. She carted stone. There warn't but five of us aboard, includin' the cap'n and the cook. But our freight warn't perishable," and he chuckled, "so speed didn't enter into our calculations. One day there come up a smother of fog as we was just off Bolderhead Neck. We'd run some in-shore.
I'll have him arrested if he is in Bolderhead still, and if he has run away I'll find means of having him brought back here to stand trial." I was just as earnest as ever I was about anything in my life, and I guess Mr. Chester Downes realized it. He had gone away the night before in haste; but after thinking over the situation he believed that I could be browbeaten and my will set aside.
If he had not been drowned off Bolderhead Neck, and had been hidden away in this wilderness so many years, he had gone to his account now. I was sorry I had come down here in the Sea Spell; but being here I had to somewhat wait upon Captain Tugg's pleasure before I could get away. We warped the Sea Spell off the shoal and found her uninjured. She had scarcely started a plank.
I s'pose he might never have told me his real name," said Tugg. The whole story took hold of me as it had when Tom Anderly told me of the man that had been picked up by the coaster, Sally Smith, off Bolderhead Neck some fourteen or fifteen years before. Tom had said nothing about the man looking like me; but of course, Tom didn't know the man long only until the coaster reached New York City.
But it was not his fund of information, or his tales, that first of all interested me in Tom Anderly. I had told nobody not even Ben Gibson about the actual event of my being swept out to sea from Bolderhead, nor had I said a word about my father. The fact that he had been a sea-going physician would not help me hold my own with the crew of the Scarboro.
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