CHAPTER IV
_In Which Jimmie Grimm Surprises a Secret, Jim Grimm makes a Rash Promise, and a Tourist From the States Discovers the Marks of Tog's Teeth_
With spring came the great disappointment. The snow melted from thehills; wild flowers blossomed where the white carpet had lain; the icewas ready to break and move out to sea with the next wind from thewest. There were no more foxes to be caught. Jim Grimm bundled theskins, strapped them on his back, and took them to the storekeeper atShelter Harbour, five miles up the coast; and when their value hadbeen determined he came home disconsolate.
Jimmie's mother had been watching from the window. "Well?" she said,when the man came in.
"'Tis not enough," he groaned. "I'm sorry, mum; but 'tis not enough."
She said nothing, but waited for him to continue; for she feared togive him greater distress.
"'Twas a fair price he gave me," Jim Grimm continued. "I'm notcomplainin' o' that. But there's not enough t' do more than keep us infood, with pinchin', till we sells the fish in the fall. I'm sick,mum--I'm fair sick an' miserable along o' disappointment."
"'Tis sad t' think," said the mother, "that Jimmie's not t' becured--after all."
"For the want o' twelve dollars!" he sighed.
They were interrupted by the clatter of Jimmie's crutches, coming inhaste from the inner room. Then entered Jimmie.
"I heered what you said," he cried, his eyes blazing, his whole wornlittle body fairly quivering with excitement. "I heered you say'cure.' Is I t' be cured?"
They did not answer.
"Father! Mama! Did you say I was t' be cured?"
"Hush, dear!" said the mother.
"I can't hush. I wants t' know. Father, tell me. Is I t' be cured?"
"Jim," said the mother to Jim Grimm, "tell un."
"You is!" Jim shouted, catching Jimmie in his arms, and rocking himlike a baby. "You _is_ t' be cured. Debt or no debt, lad, I'll seeyou cured!"
* * * * *
The matter of credit was easily managed. The old storekeeper atShelter Harbour did not hesitate. Credit? Of course, he would give JimGrimm that. "Jim," said he, "I've knowed you for a long time, an' Iknows you t' be a good man. I'll fit you out for the summer an' thewinter, if you wants me to, an' you can take your own time aboutpayin' the bill." And so Jim Grimm withdrew twelve dollars from thecredit of his account.
They began to keep watch on the ice--to wish for a westerly gale, thatthe white waste might be broken and dispersed.
"Father," said Jimmie, one night, when the man was putting him to bed,"how long will it be afore that there Kurepain comes?"
"I 'low the steamer'll soon be here."
"Ay?"
"An' then she'll take the letter with the money."
"Ay?"
"An' she'll be gone about a month an' a fortnight, an' then she'll beback with----"
"The cure!" cried Jimmie, giving his father an affectionate dig inthe ribs. "She'll be back with the cure!"
"Go t' sleep, lad."
"I can't," Jimmie whispered. "I can't for joy o' thinkin' o' thatcure."
* * * * *
By and by the ice moved out, and, in good time, the steamer came. Itwas at the end of a blustering day, with the night falling thick.Passengers and crew alike--from the grimy stokers to the shiveringAmerican tourists--were relieved to learn, when the anchor went downwith a splash and a rumble, that the "old man" was to "hang her down"until the weather turned "civil."
Accompanied by the old schoolmaster, who was to lend him aid inregistering the letter to the Kurepain Company, Jim Grimm went aboardin the punt. It was then dark.
"You knows a Yankee when you sees one," said he, when they reached theupper deck. "Point un out, an' I'll ask un."
"Ay, _I'm_ travelled," said the schoolmaster, importantly. "And'twould be wise to ask about this Kurepain Company before you post theletter."
Thus it came about that Jim Grimm timidly approached two gentlemen whowere chatting merrily in the lee of the wheel-house.
"Do you know the Kurepain, sir?" he asked.
"Eh? What?" the one replied.
"Hook's, sir."
"Hook's? In the name of wonder, man, Hook's what?"
"Kurepain, sir."
"Hook's Kurepain," said the stranger. "Doctor," addressing hiscompanion, "do you recommend----"
The doctor shrugged his shoulders.
"Then you do not?" said the other.
The doctor eyed Jim Grimm. "Why do you ask?" he inquired.
"'Tis for me little son, sir," Jim replied. "He've a queer sort o'rheumaticks. We're thinkin' the Kurepain will cure un. It have cured aMinister o' the Gospel, sir, an' a Champion o' the World; an' we wasallowin' that it wouldn't have much trouble t' cure little JimmieGrimm. They's as much as twelve dollars, sir, in this here letter,which I'm sendin' away. I'm wantin' t' know, sir, if they'll send thecure if I sends the money."
The doctor was silent for a moment. "Where do you live?" he asked, atlast.
Jim pointed to a far-off light. "Jimmie will be at that window," hesaid, "lookin' out at the steamer's lights."
"Do you care for a run ashore?" asked the doctor, turning to hisfellow tourist.
"If it would not overtax you."
"No, no--I'm strong enough, now. The voyage has put me on my feetagain. Come--let us go."
Jim Grimm took them ashore in the punt; guided them along the winding,rocky path; led them into the room where Jimmie sat at the window. Thedoctor felt of Jimmie's knee, and asked him many questions. Then heheld a whispered consultation with his companion and the schoolmaster;and of their conversation Jimmie caught such words and phrases as"slight operation" and "chloroform" and "that table" and "poor light,but light enough" and "rough and ready sort of work" and "no danger."Then Jim Grimm was dispatched to the steamer with the doctor's friend;and when they came back the man carried a bag in his hand. The doctorasked Jimmie a question, and Jimmie nodded his head. Whereupon, thedoctor called him a brave lad, and sent Jim Grimm out to the kitchento keep his wife company for a time, first requiring him to bring apail of water and another lamp.
When they called Jim Grimm in again--he knew what they were about, andit seemed a long, long time before the call came--little Jimmie waslying on the couch, sick and pale, with his knee tightly bandaged, butwith his eyes glowing.
"Mama! Father!" the boy whispered, exultantly. "They says I'm cured."
"Yes," said the doctor; "he'll be all right, now. His trouble was notrheumatism. It was caused by a fragment of the bone, broken off at theknee-joint. At least, that's as plain as I can make it to you. He wasbitten by a dog, was he not? So he says. And he remembers that he felta stab of pain in his knee at the time. That or the fall probablyaccounts for it. At any rate, I have removed that fragment. He'll beall right, after a bit. I've told the schoolmaster how to take care ofhim, and I'll leave some medicine, and--well--he'll soon be allright."
When the doctor was about to step from the punt to the steamer'sladder, half an hour later, Jim Grimm held up a letter to him.
"'Tis for you, sir," he said.
"What's this?" the doctor demanded.
"'Tis for you to keep, sir," Jim answered, with dignity. "'Tis themoney for the work you done."
"Money!" cried the doctor. "Why, really," he stammered, "I--you see,this is my vacation--and I----"
"I 'low, sir," said Jim, quietly, "that you'll 'blige me."
"Well, well!" exclaimed the doctor, being wise, "that I will!"
Jimmie Grimm got well long before it occurred to his father that thefishing at Buccaneer Cove was poor and that he might do betterelsewhere.