“Blumpo is making money,” said Harry, “and I am glad of it.”
“So am I,” replied our hero. “He is an odd sort of chap, but his heart is of gold.”
The Whistler was soon on her way up the lake with old Jack Broxton at the tiller, and as the breeze was steady the boys had little to do but talk. Once again our hero related his story, and Harry proved a most attentive listener.
“That Alexander Slocum ought to go to prison for life,” he said, at the conclusion. “The idea of daring to make out that Nellie Ardell was insane.”
“It was a bold scheme, Harry.”
“It seems to me the world is full of bad people, Jerry. Look at such men as that Slocum and his tools, and then at such boys as Si Peters and Wash Crosby.”
“Where do you suppose Crosby and Peters are?”
“The authorities don’t know. But Blumpo told me a few days ago he was almost certain he had seen them on the north shore of the lake. He said they took to their heels in the bushes just about the time he spotted them.”
“They are bound to be brought to justice sooner or later.”
“I don’t know. But I do know one thing; I would like to get back my gold watch.”