“Could it have been he?” thought Tom. “It was certainly some one here in the shelter with me, and there aren’t many to pick from.”
He reflected that it might have been possible for little Jackie, moving in his sleep, to have tossed toward him, and gotten his hand near the money belt. And yet the hand had felt heavier than that of the child.
“Well,” mused Tom, “it won’t do to make a mistake. I’ve got to keep quiet and see what turns up. Only I know one thing—I’m not going to sleep much the rest of the night.”
He paused in the doorway, and was about to turn back to lie down beside Jackie, when Abe, who was talking with Joe near the helm, spied our hero.
“Hello, Tom,” the sailor called in a low voice. “Anything the matter the reason you’re up? Is Jackie sick?”
“No, he’s all right,” replied Tom in a low voice, but loud enough so that Professor Skeel, if he was awake, could hear it; “Jackie is all right. I thought one of you came in the shelter to see me.”
“One of us!” exclaimed Abe.
“Yes,” answered Tom.
“We weren’t there,” went on Abe. “We’ve been standing here for the last half hour, talking about what we might do to-morrow—after we get the boat launched. We weren’t near you.”