“P-raps, but he would have found me hard to digist. Do ye obsarve?”
He pointed to the little landing which they were leaving behind them. All looked and saw the burly brute of a man slowly rise to a sitting posture, with his hat off and his frowsy hair in his eyes, as he stared confusedly after the launch speeding up the river.
“He is recovering quicker than I expected,” was the only remark Calvert made, as he turned his back upon the fellow and gave his attention to lighting another cigar.
“He has the look of a fellow mixed and confused like, similar to Pat McGuigan, whin he dived off the dock and his head and shoulders wint through a lobster pot that he didn’t obsarve in time to avoid the same.”
“He’s coming round all right,” said Calvert, referring to the man they had left behind, though he did not glance at him. “He may not be very pretty, but he knows more than he did a little while ago. Which reminds me to say something that ought to have been said at our first interview.”
The three listened to the words of Calvert, who clearly was in earnest.
“Each of you knows that I am a professional detective who has been sent into Maine to do all I can to capture the gang that is robbing the post offices in this section. I told you that much, but I wish to ask you to be very, very careful not to say this to any person whom you may meet, until you have my permission to do so. Some would insist that it was unprofessional on my part to say what I did, but I had good reason for it, as will appear before I am through with the business.”
“It was not necessary to tell Chester and me that, but I suppose you wish to run no risk that can be avoided.”
“That’s it; I did not doubt your loyalty, but you know we can’t be too careful.”
Mike was leaning back in his chair deeply thinking.