bustling activity, in which every
available person of the village, including women and children, was hard
at work. Fires were blazing under a number of great kettles half
filled with boiling water. Into these, green lobsters were tossed by
barrowfuls, to be taken out a little later smoking hot and coloured a
vivid scarlet. On the packing tables their shells were broken, and the
extracted meat was put into cans, to which covers, each with a tiny
hole in the middle, were soldered. Then the filled cans were steamed,
by trayfuls, to exhaust their air; a drop of solder closed each vent,
and they were ready for labelling and packing in cases. White Baldwin,
in person, superintended all these operations, while David Gidge saw to
the unloading of the "Sea Bee," and kept sharp watch on a gang of
shouting urchins, who were withdrawing the live lobsters from the
outside salt-water pens, in which they had been kept while awaiting
their fate.

White was in high spirits, for the travelling agent of a St. Johns
business house had just offered a good cash price for his entire pack.

"Of course," the young proprietor said to Cabot, as they viewed the
busy scone, "we won't make anything like what we would if we were
allowed a whole uninterrupted season; but, if they will only let us
alone for a week, I'll pack a thousand cases. Those will yield enough
to support us for a year, and before that is up I'm not afraid but that
I'll find some other way of earning a living. Now, if I can only get
sufficient help, I'm going to run this factory night and day for the
next week, unless compelled by force to stop sooner."

Cabot was already so interested that he promptly volunteered to aid in
making the all-important pack.

"I don't know anything about the business," he said, "but if you can
make use of me in any way, I shall be only too glad of a chance to
repay a small portion of the great debt I owe you."

"Nonsense!" laughed White. "You don't owe me a thing, and I don't want
you to feel that way. At the same time I should be ever so glad of
your help in getting things well started; for just now one strong
fellow like you would be worth a dozen of those children."

So, a few minutes later, Cabot, clad in overalls and an old flannel
shirt of White's, was as hard at work as though the canning of lobsters
was the business of his life. Far into the night he laboured, only
pausing long enough to go up to the house for supper; and, on t