On the third day after the visit of the boat-builder, as Bob was sculling slowly about the harbor, looking for passengers, he was hailed by a man on the wharf, who, as he came up, pulled a memorandum-book from his pocket, saying:
"I am collecting for Mr. Graves, and I have a little bill of seventeen dollars against you."
"I can't pay it," replied the fisher-boy, hanging down his head, and looking as mean as if he had been detected in robbing somebody's orchard.
"Well, then, my orders are to give you back your nine dollars, and to take the boat," said the man. "Mr. Graves says he has been sadly deceived in you. You told him a falsehood."
The loss of the boat was a severe blow to Bob, but the knowledge that his reputation had suffered by his failure to keep his promise, was still worse. But that was not all. Mr. Henry and Mr. Newcombe were standing upon the wharf, and there were several ferry-boys close by. The two gentlemen opened their eyes and looked at Bob in great surprise, while one of the ferry-boys, delighted to witness the discomfiture of a rival, whispered,
"Hurrah for us! There's one more out of the way!" said another.
The fisher-boy laid the oars carefully upon the thwarts, passed the skiff's painter up to the collector, and climbed upon the wharf without saying a word. He took the note and the money the man handed to him, and stood watching him as he sprang down into the skiff, and pulled up the harbor toward the ship-yard. As soon as he disappeared among the shipping, Bob tore up the note, put his money into his pocket, and walked slowly homeward. He wanted to get out of sight of those two gentlemen, and away from the ferry-boys, who kept their eyes fastened on him as if he had been some curious wild animal. He felt like an outlaw, and it seemed to him that every man who passed him on the wharf, looked upon him with contempt.
"I'll always believe what mother says, after this," said the fisher-boy to himself. "I am out of debt now, and, if I don't keep out, I'll--"
"Ah, here you are!" exclaimed a voice, breaking in upon his reverie. "The best oarsman on Newport harbor! We've been looking for you! We want to go across!"
Bob looked up, and found his liberal passenger before him, the man who had paid him the forty dollars in gold by mistake. He had looked and watched for him every time he came into the harbor, and here he was, when he the least expected him. He was accompanied by two gentlemen, whom Bob knew to be sailors, from their style of dress.