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Updated: August 12, 2024
Only John Quinbey was a swimmer of sufficient strength to reach the beach, and here he lay, half dead, for a day, when he arose and struck inland, knowing that Punta Arenas was about a hundred and fifty miles along the coast of the Magellan Strait, and hoping to reach it. He did not at once. The giant savages of this region caught him and made him one of them, preventing his escape.
His name was Quinbey first name John, later Jack. He was of American birth, the only son of a fisherman, who had taken his smack to an isolated village on the Nova Scotian coast.
But he went out, shirtless and coatless, at the end of Quinbey's arm; and, as it really was cold, he hurried on his errand, and returned. Before long the base-burner was roaring, and Quinbey was recounting his adventures to his happy-faced wife; while Sammy, in the kitchen, finished up the wash. Later on he delivered it; but no more washing of other folks' clothing was ever done in that house.
As Quinbey explained to the questioning villagers, he would go to sea no more, but, having spent his life at sea, wanted a reminder something to look at a plaything.
Sammy was an interested spectator of the work, and Quinbey was kind to him, answering his questions, and even betraying some solicitude that he should understand the rig of a ship, the names of the ropes and sails, and the manner of handling them. He even went so far as to hire a couple of sailors to climb aloft, to loose and furl canvas, again and again, until Sammy understood.
Young Quinbey closed up the house, took in a partner with money, and went fishing for a season, at the end of which the partner a shrewd business man owned the smack.
He took Quinbey on board, took him to Boston, and helped him turn the nugget into cash fifty thousand dollars. Then Quinbey went home. Quinbey had been right about the money in the bank. It was a tidy sum to retain on deposit, and the bank officials had heartlessly refused to pay any of it out to Mrs. Quinbey.
He asked her as he would have asked a sailor to sign articles; and the frightened little woman accepted in about the same spirit that would have influenced the sailor; but she made one condition that he would educate her son for the ministry. He agreed. Her husband had left her almost nothing, while Quinbey had about ten thousand dollars in the bank.
The jeweler had no gold watches; but, after a two hours' search, he dug up a wholesaler's catalogue, and, with this in his pocket, Quinbey returned to have Minnie select a watch from it; but she, her trunks, and her belongings were gone, while a note on the table apprised him that she would live with no man who called her a cat.
Quinbey left her, and found his stepson in his room, changing his wet clothing for dry. "Take this money," he said, handing him a bill, "and go down to the coal dock. Order a ton up here at once." "I will, sir," answered Sammy, with dignity, "when I've recovered somewhat from your extremely brutal treatment of me. I must be dry before I go out on this cold day."
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