Free The Black Joke by Farley Mowat Page A

speculatively. Ignoring the two boys, who were at work loosening the lashings on the piles of lumber stowed on deck, they began to talk amongst themselves.
    â€œThem Newfies sure build ’em rough,” one of them said.
    â€œRough but tough, I guess,” replied a second.
    â€œGood enough lines to her,” said the third. “Give her the power and she’ll move.”
    The first man laughed harshly. “Yep, she’ll move. Move right out from under that tinhorn Newfie skipper. Who do you reckon’ll take charge of her?”
    â€œSmith, more’n likely. He’s welcome. For my money she’s a fish tub, nothin’ more, even when they put a hundred horse-power diesel in her guts.”
    â€œLay off that talk,” said the first man. “This joint’s getting lousy with Federal agents. Keep your yap shut, Jimmy, or someone’ll shut it for you.”
    â€œWho’s to hear? Nobody aboard her but a French cop with hair in his ears and a couple of kids. Hey, kids, you hear what we been sayin’?”
    Peter and Kye had heard all right, though they hadnot fully understood. They were a little afraid of these strange men who spoke English with a queer accent, so they pretended total ignorance. Ducking their heads they continued with their work.
    â€œSee?” said the man who had been told to keep his mouth shut. “Deaf and dumb. Dumb, anyhow.”
    Nevertheless the three men continued their conversation in lowered tones that no longer carried to the boys’ ears. After a few minutes they re-crossed the Place and entered another bar.
    When they were out of earshot, Peter turned to Kye.
    â€œCan ’ee figure what they ’uns was talking about?” he asked.
    Kye shrugged: “Sounded like they was plannin’ to buy Black Joke , or thought they was anyhow. You think maybe they’re rum-runners from the States?”
    Peter nodded his head wisely. “Must be. Good thing Dad wasn’t aboard or he’d have made ’em swallow what they said about Newfoundlanders.”
    Jonathan did not get back to the boat until late afternoon, and when he did arrive he was in no happy mood. After leaving the agent’s office, he had gone to the offices of three different lawyers and had tried to arrange for one of them to represent him at the official hearing into the accident. The first lawyer had simply refused to understand English, though Jonathan was certain the man understood it well enough. The other two had been agreeable to represent Jonathan–if he was prepared to give them a retainer of a hundred dollars in advance.
    â€œI never thought too much of lawyers,” Jonathan told the boys when he got back to the ship, “but I never figured to find them squeezin’ blood from a man afore they’d give him a hand. I’d have told the lot of ’em to go to perdition, only I run into a skipper I knowed, Paddy Mathews from Burin. His vessel’s lyin’ up on the marine railway for hull repairs and he got me aboard of her and told me he figures I either got to git a lawyer, or lose the case. He claims he heard a story someone’s plannin’ to steal Black Joke offen me, and has paid off the authorities to help. Paddy’s a good man, and worth trustin’. So after he told me that, I went huntin’ for merchant Barnes. Took me two hours to track him down. I asks him for half the charter money in advance, seein’ as how the lumber is safe delivered in St. Peter’s. Barnes says, ‘Your charter ain’t completed until we gits back home, Skipper Spence, and I never pays until a job’s complete.’ Well, b’ys, I wasn’t goin’ to beg offen the likes of him so I come away, and here I am.”
    Kye and Peter looked at each other, not quite sure whether to risk adding to Jonathan’s problems or not, then Kye took the bull by the horns.
    â€œThere was somethin’ happened