“Hop on a thwart,” he prompted. “I don’t suppose there’s anything but bilgewater under the boards but we might as well have a look.”
“Need a hand?” asked Dorothy, looking down at him.
“No, I guess not. These sections aren’t heavy—” He broke off with a sudden exclamation and fished up something from the wet.
“What is it?”
“Seems to be a notebook. Probably dropped out of either Donovan’s or Charlie’s pockets and got kicked under that loose flooring in the gale last night. But it’s soaking wet and its pages are stuck together. Wonder if we’ll be able to get anything out of it?”
Dorothy held out her hand.
“Give it to me. I’ll dry it out on the dock while you look some more.”
For the next few minutes Bill continued his search while Dorothy after placing the notebook on the decking of the dock watched it carefully, lest the light breeze blow it into the water.
At last he joined her and lifted the sea bag over his shoulder.
“How’s it coming?”