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Updated: June 23, 2025
Which is exactly what Neils Halvorsen proceeded to do.
"If I thought he would not be with you to-morrow I would stay, though to do so would greatly disappoint my Aunt Lucy," he said to Daisy, who was unselfish enough to bid him go, though she knew how she should miss him, and fell intuitively that twenty Neils could not fill his place. "I cannot ask you to stay longer.
In fact, to such an extent was Neils puzzled, that one perfectly calm, clear night while beating down San Pablo Bay in his bay scow, the Willie and Annie, he so far forgot himself and his own affairs as to concentrate all his attention on the problem of the ultimate finish of Captain Scraggs.
"Pray, Nell, how did it happen that you yourself were abroad at so unseasonable an hour?" said the magistrate. "Every one knows that I'm out at quare hours," replied Nell; "I'm not like others. I know where I ought to be, at all times; but last night, if your worship wishes to hear the truth, I was on my way to Andy Murray's wake, the poor lad that was shepherd to the Neils."
"For ten dollars more each me an' Mac'll tail on to that rope an' do our best to right the skiff. After she's righted, I'll bail her out, borrow new oars from this here bark, an' help Neils row back to the Maggie with the cable," Mr. Gibney volunteered. "Cash in advance, as per usual."
So he sheered over to starboard, with Neils Halvorsen heaving the lead, and dropped anchor in five fathoms under the lee of Fort Mason.
She was so close that Neils was enabled to make out that her name was Maggie II. "Vell, aye be dam," muttered Neils, and scratched his head, for the name revived old memories. An hour later, when the Alameda loafed into her berth at Brewer's dock, Neils noticed that the schooner lay at anchor off the quarantine station.
Neils Halvorsen, of all men! Old Neils, "the squarehead" deckhand of the green-pea trade! Dull, bowlegged Neils, with his lost dog smile and his Mr. Gibney rubbed his eyes feebly and half staggered to his feet. What was that? A shout? Without doubt he had heard a sound that was not the moaning of their remorseless prison-keeper, the sea. And "Hands off," shrieked Mr.
Now, Neils had sailed too long with Captain Scraggs not to realize that the erstwhile green-pea trader would be the last man to take a chance in any hazardous enterprise unless forced thereto by the weight of circumstance; also there was affection enough in his simple Scandinavian heart to cause him to feel just a little worried when two weeks passed and Captain Scraggs failed to show up.
Thygeson & Company, of Stockholm, who had first employed him to hunt up an heir to the estate of old Eric Peterson, whose son Neils and his young wife had been lost on the coast of Maine, fared no better.
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