“The devil you did!” I exclaimed, with suddenly roused interest.
“There have been two or three boats out to her this morning, and what can any one be wanting in a yacht with no crew on board?”
“Let me have a squint at her,” I said, taking the glass and training it on her. She was a nice craft, about 250 tonnage; her sharp lines suggested a good turn of speed; and everything about her was as smart as one expects to see it in a private yacht.
“What drew my attention to her,” said Burroughs at my elbow, “was that I saw some one carefully scanning us through a glass, and I thought I’d return the compliment.”
“What was he like?”
The description he gave fitted no one whom I knew. “He’s been at it more than once since. The old man has noticed it too.”
“Are you sure that you recognized that young fellow?” I asked as I handed him the glass, not having seen any one on the yacht.
“I’d eat my sea-boots if it wasn’t.”
“Well, keep an eye skinned for her. It’s very singular.”
I took his advice not to show myself and sat down on the other side of the deck and lit a cigar to think things over.