It was a beautiful night. The moonlight sparkled on the water, and shone clear and soft on the sails of the boat. The breeze was cool and delicious. Gregory the Gauger had stopped thumping and everything was very pleasant and restful after the jail, and the other exciting events of the night. Except for the sound of the water at the bow, we sailed for five or ten minutes in perfect silence. My eyes half closed and my head fell forward as I sat in the cockpit.
"Well, I'd go below, and turn in," said Mr. Daddles, "but I don't know about facing that sabre-toothed tiger down there. We made a great mistake, boys, in not slitting his weasand the first time we saw him. Somehow, I think I'm going through life with him in close pursuit."
"Let's see what he's up to now," said Sprague.
"He's probably scuttling the ship," suggested Jimmy Toppan.
Sprague opened the cabin doors, and pushed back the hatchway. Gregory had lighted the lamp and was calmly engaged in examining the clock. To our surprise the wrath seemed to have gone out of the man.
"Where didger git that air clock?" he asked, peering up at
Sprague.
"In Boston," Sprague answered him, "what do you think of it?"
"Pretty fair, pretty fair. What does a clock like that cost?"
They entered into a conversation about the clock, and some of the other furnishings of the cabin. Sprague asked him if he wanted to come on deck. He accepted the invitation and came up.
"You'd better look out for him," Mr. Daddles whispered to Pete, "this may be guile."