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Updated: June 5, 2025
The Mary Ellen was plowing through the blue waters, bending over under a good wind. Nearly all the members of the company were out on deck, under awnings. Alice saw Jack Jepson at some work on the port rail, and noticed Hen Lacomb and the captain stroll toward him. The two latter seemed to converse for a few minutes, when suddenly there was a heavy lurch and roll to the craft.
In fact, save for Alice and Jack Jepson, no one paid any attention to him. As the captain and the new man whom he had addressed as "Hen Lacomb" went below, the attention of Alice was taken by Ruth. "Don't you think, dear," her sister said, "that we had better get our possessions in order.
The latter slunk below followed by Hen Lacomb. "We've got to try to stop that leak first of all!" said Jack, as he carefully put in his pocket the paper he had claimed was an agreement between Brisco and his crony. "I appoint Jim West as first mate and Frank Snyder as second!" the new captain went on. "Come below, you two, and we'll see what we can do. We've got to mend the pumps.
Captain Brisco appeared to struggle with some emotion. His face went red and white by turns. He seemed unable to speak. But at last he choked out: "What! You dare say that to me. You accuse me !" "Yes, and I have the proof!" cried Jack. "Here's the agreement you made Lacomb sign. You were afraid to trust to him unless he made a promise in writing, and here it is.
Alice cried, echoing the shout of Hen Lacomb, who, she noticed, after his first hesitation, began lowering a boat, or trying to, for it needed two at that task. "I'll help!" cried Alice rushing to the aid of the strange man who seemed so friendly with Captain Brisco. "Oh you !" he exclaimed, with a swift look at her.
The spectacle of a smartly-dressed young lady whom he seemed to know vaguely, riding down the dusty street on a shiny yellow side saddle on the back of a big, vicious-looking black colt, made the little man reach hastily for his coat of ceremony. "M'm'selle Lansing!" he said, bowing in friendly pomp as Ruth drove up. "How do you do, Mr. LaComb? I came down to go to Mass.
Him captain?" cried Hen Lacomb, who was edging nearer and nearer to Jack all this while. "Why not?" asked Mr. Pertell. "He doesn't know how to navigate. He'll run us aground." "I wish he would run us on der ground!" murmured Mr. Switzer. "I haf hat enough of der ocean. Der ground is goot enough for me." "I can navigate!" cried Jack.
Arsene LaComb sat on the steps of his store in French Village in the glory of a stiff white shirt and a festal red vest. The store was closed, of course, in honour of the day. In a few minutes he would put on his black coat, in his official capacity of trustee of the church, and march solemnly over to ring the bell for Mass.
The Bishop of Alden was practising his French upon Arsene LaComb. It was undoubtedly good French, this of M'sieur the Bishop, Arsene assured himself. It must be. But it certainly was not any kind of French that had ever been spoken by the folks back in Three Rivers. Still, what did it matter?
It was evident that something had taken place aboard the steamer. A signal flag broke out at her mast, and Captain Brisco, seeing it, exclaimed impatiently: "What can they want with us?" "They want to talk, that's evident," said Hen Lacomb, who stood near the commander. "But what about?" "We'll soon know."
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