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Yes, the apple boat. It was painted green as it had been last year; the sails were patched; the poorest apples lay in heaps on the deck, the medium sort were in bags, and the best apples were in baskets. In the midst of this tempting abundance Mrs. Lind, who was uncommonly stout, usually sat, knitting. When her husband was up in town delivering apples Mrs. Lind took care of the boat, the apples, and Nils and everything. Nils, their son, was more to look after than all the rest put together, for he was the worst scalawag to be found along the whole coast. He reached the arches, and discovered beyond a kind of inner hall, of considerable extent, which was closed at the farther end by a pair of massy folding-doors, heavily ornamented with carving. They were fastened by a lock, and defied his utmost strength. “I should say not,” returned Jerry. “The last twelve hours ought to last you for the rest of your life!”.

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Jerry went on with his story. “She told me I ought to be ashamed of myself, big, husky boy that I was, roaming around doing no useful work. Wanted to know why I didn’t stay there and help with the harvest and work for my living. This wasn’t the first time that I had been handed out the same sort of chatter. But I fell for it this time—she was sort of homely and nice. The only thing I was afraid of was the Denver Kid. I knew if I didn’t go back with something to eat he would come and find me and lick the stuffing out of me. I told Mrs. Olson—that was her name—that I would have to go but that I’d come back that night. For a moment I don’t think she believed me, but at last she let me go, giving me quite a lot of grub. Johnny Blossom also was indignant over the pilot’s interference with their fine plan for feeding the goat. But it wasn’t the stupidest thing in the world to tie the goat’s legs together. In the afternoon they would do that, and Pilot Stiansen needn’t trouble himself any more over their affairs. “What is it called?” Wouldn’t any one suppose that Uncle Isaac was her uncle and not his, Johnny Blossom’s, the way she behaved?.