“Who are you and what do you want?” asked the chief sternly. “They don’t deal very lightly with tramps in these parts. You’d better clear out. We’re police officers.”
“Glad to meet you. I am the Duke of Wellington,” said the tramp in airy tones.
At that answer the chief gave a start, and then tried to appear as if nothing had happened. But Jerry who was watching intently, saw an almost imperceptible sign pass between the chief and the ragged man.
“Oh, if you’re the Duke, I suppose we’ll have to accommodate you,” the chief replied. “You can come in my boat if you want to.”
Then, to the no small astonishment of the policemen, the tramp climbed aboard the Terror, which, with a throb of the engine started down the river. The Dartaway put after her at full speed.
“Well, I must say we’ve had plenty of excitement for one spell,” observed Jerry.
“And there may be more,” said Ned.
“What makes you think so?”
“Because of that tramp,” and Ned indicated the one aboard the Terror. “There’s something strange about him. Does he remind you of any one?”
“There!” exclaimed Jerry. “I was wondering where I had heard that voice before. He’s the tramp who was asleep on the hay barge. I wonder what he’s doing around here, and so friendly with the police.”