This vessel had taken up an anchorage a little way below the railroad bridge, and nearer the heart of the town than most of the other yachts. Many of these were clustered near the New York Yacht Club station, and all had apparently sought to be as near the cottage colonies on the two points as possible, in order that their parties might go ashore quickly to take part in the numerous festivities that had been arranged.
A single look at the group that was gathered about the big table in the main cabin of the Marina would have explained why she had chosen her anchorage where she did. The men seated there were not at all the sort to be invited to parties at the cottages of the New London colony. The saloons in the neighborhood of the station were more likely to be their resorts while on shore, and the cabin, filled with smoke, and suffocatingly close, was not a pleasant sight. A big man, with yellow mustache and blue eyes, was doing most of the talking.
“I don’t know anything about the people that are involved,” he said. “All I know is that the plan is a good one. It’s a plan that will work and that will enable us to make a lot of money. We found that out this afternoon. I’m not afraid of this man Merriwell you speak about. I don’t know anything about him—and I don’t want to. He can’t find out what we’re doing. It’s physically impossible. So why worry about him?”
“That’s all right, Captain Svenson,” said another member of the group. “I’m glad to hear you talk that way. But there’s a lot of money involved, and I don’t like to risk my cash unless I’m sure everything is perfectly safe. Yale is a top-heavy favorite for this race. If we can plunge on Harvard and Harvard wins, we’ll make a big killing. I should say that we ought to clean up about twenty or thirty thousand dollars. These Yale people will bet at odds of five to three, or even two to one, and they’ll go pretty hard, if they’re managed right. But I’m not familiar with all the arrangements, and I feel a little leery about going in without knowing more than I do.”
“We can’t tell you any more than we have, Dennison,” said the third man. “You ought to be satisfied. I’ve put up five thousand dollars, and Svenson has mortgaged this boat to get two thousand to go into the scheme.”
“I suppose that’s pretty good evidence that you think it’s all right,” said Dennison, though still in a doubtful voice. “But the thing that makes me hesitate is that old Bill Harding wouldn’t go into it with you.”
“Harding’s a quitter,” said Barrows, the other man, impatiently. “He said he didn’t have the money, but the truth is that’s he’s afraid of Merriwell. He admitted that much to you. He has tried to put one or two things over on this fellow Merriwell, and he’s either had bad luck or made an awful mess of the job each time. Anyhow, he thinks that Merriwell’s got the Indian sign on him now, and he’s lying back, waiting until he sees Merriwell leaning out of a high building or something of that sort. You ought to be able to stand on your own feet, Dennison. You’re old enough.”
“Well, if you say it’s positively all right, I suppose it is,” said Dennison, still reluctant, as it seemed, to commit himself to the enterprise they had planned. He took a big drink of whisky, and the stimulant seemed to revive his courage somewhat.
“Of course, it’s all right,” said Barrows. “You held a watch on that crew this afternoon, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” said Dennison.