“Then we understand each other?”
“Thoroughly.”
“Good-night.”
“Good-night.”
Gentleman George turned and sauntered away toward the shore, while Red Rob remained sitting where he was.
Chick backed out on the opposite side of the pile, and glided along in pursuit of the chief.
As he moved on, he saw a figure sitting perched upon the head of an old barrel, near the shore end of the pier.
“Barney,” he thought.
But the chief saw him, too, and he paused and spoke to him.
“Hello, Cully,” he said; “what are you looking for?”