Presently we reached a square or market place. Here were more shops, a butcher's, a grocery, and one that announced "Ice Cream."

A peanut-stand, sheltered by an umbrella, stood in the middle of the square, and toward this we made our way. An aged Italian sat behind it, reading a newspaper. He sold us peanuts, and exchanged facetious remarks with Mr. Daddles. As we left the peanut man, we heard a far-off shouting. Down the street came a tall, thin man, ringing a great dinner-bell. He was very lame and made slow progress. Now and then he would halt, and shout something at the top of his voice.

"What's the matter?" Sprague asked a man, who stood in the door of a cigar-shop, "is there a fire?"

The man grinned.

"That's the town-crier," said he.

"Town-crier!" exclaimed Mr. Daddles, "I didn't know there were any of 'em left."

"There aint," said the man, "except this one. He's the last one of 'em."

The crier limped slowly down the street toward us. We all halted to hear his next announcement. Stopping in the middle of the street he solemnly rang his bell two or three times. Then he threw back his head, and bellowed in a tremendous voice:

"Hear--what--I--have--to--say! Stolen! the cat-boat--Hannah--J.-- Pettingell--from--Mulliken's Wharf--yesterday--afternoon! Reward --will--be--paid--for information!--Apply--to--the--owner--at-- the Eagle--House!"

CHAPTER VIII

HUNTING THE HOPPERGRa.s.s

"Did you ever hear the like of that?" said Mr. Daddles, in a kind of awed whisper; "don't move,--he's going to do it again!"

But Ed Mason, Jimmy Toppan, and I were not be to restrained.

"That's the 'Hoppergra.s.s'!" we all burst out, at the same instant.

"What's the 'Hopper'--?" began Mr. Daddles, but his voice was drowned out by the crier. Beginning with his "Hear what I have to say!" he repeated the announcement word for word as he had given it the first time. Then he rang his bell with four, slow, deliberate motions, and started to hobble away.

We were after him in a second.

"Where is it?"

"When was it stolen?"

"Where's Captain Bannister?"

The crier looked down at us with some air of indignation, and shifted his quid of tobacco.

"Apply at the Eagle House," said he, pointing his thumb over his shoulder.

"Come on! come on!" we begged the other three, "let's go to the Eagle House!"

"Why? What for?"

"That's the 'Hoppergra.s.s' he said was stolen. Captain Bannister is here,--at the Eagle House!"

"But he didn't say the 'Hoppergra.s.s';--he said the Hannah Billingsgate."

"Pettingell. That's the other name of the 'Hoppergra.s.s'."

"The other name? Does she travel under an Elias, as Gregory the Gauger calls it?"

"No, no! The captain doesn't like 'Hoppergra.s.s' and he said he had thought of changing the name. Come on,--let's go to the Eagle House."

We made them understand at last, and then we started up the street in the direction that the crier had pointed. On the way, Jimmy Toppan was struck by doubts.

"I don't see how the Captain COULD change the name like this. You have to register a new name for a boat, I think."

"You said that he was thinking of calling her the Hannah J. what --is--it? Didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Well, then, it must be the same boat. There wouldn't be two knocking about, with a name like that."

We found the hotel presently. There were two elderly men sitting on the little piazza, and they hitched their chairs around and watched us through the window as soon as we entered the office.

This room was empty, but after we had stamped and coughed a good deal, a small man in shirt-sleeves came from some room in the back.

"Is Captain Bannister here?"

"Bannister? Oh, no, Bannister aint here!"

This in a tone which was as much as to say: "I wouldn't have a man like that on the premises."

"Well, he WAS here, wasn't he?"

"Was here? Oh, yes, he WAS here,--last night."

(As if to say: "He was here until we got on to him.")

"Has he gone away?"

"Gone away? Oh, yes, he's gone away."

This seemed to strike the two men on the piazza--whose ears were almost stretching through the window--as a joke. They both laughed uproariously. The hotel man was evidently unwilling to give up any information until it was wrenched out of him, bit by bit. Mr.

Daddles continued the cross-examination.

"Do you know where he's gone?"

"Oh, he went away before six o'clock."

"Well, do you know WHERE he went?"

"Where? Oh, he told me--Joe, where'd he say he was goin'?"