“Now don’t forget to come again,” Mr. Hardack went on, as the boys got in their boat. “You see my niece is sort of lonesome. That’s the reason I let her go off with that Nixon fellow once in a while, though I don’t exactly like him. She wants cheering up.”
“Is anything the matter?” inquired Ned.
“Yes, you see her father, he—”
But the rest of what Mr. Hardack would have said was lost as, just then, Bob started the motor, and it made such a noise until Jerry slowed it down, that the keeper’s words were inaudible. When the noise had ceased the boat was some distance from the dock, and Mr. Hardack was waving them a farewell. Ned thought he saw a handkerchief shaken from a window in the lighthouse, but was not sure.
“I wonder what he was going to say about her father,” Jerry said, when they had headed the boat for home.
“He’s dead, probably,” Ned spoke. “She dresses in black, you notice.”
“I didn’t notice particularly, but it seems you did.”
“I’ve got eyes,” was all Ned replied.
“Queer Noddy should be sporting around there in a motor boat,” said Bob. “I wonder where he got it?”