Carney stepped back.
“Are you Reuben Stone?” he cried.
“That’s my name.”
In spite of his bronzed face I saw the fellow turn pale. What impression had the discovery of my identity made upon him?
“I thought you said you owned the boat you are looking for?” he said at length.
“So I do.”
“The Catch Me belonged to Bayport.”
“I thought you didn’t know anything about her?” I returned sharply.
“Well, I—I thought I didn’t,” he stammered; “but what you said put me in mind of her.”