"If you're goin' anyway," grumbled the old whaler, "I reckon it's no use my sayin' anythin' to stop you. But I s'pose," he added, and he was secretly as curious as the boy, "I'd better go along with you to see that you don't get into any more mischief than you have to."
"You're coming, then?" asked Colin impatiently.
"I'll be right out," the other answered, and he had hardly disappeared from the window when he appeared at the door. He slipped a re
volver into his pocket and handed another to Colin.
"I've got a gun," the boy said.
"All right," responded Hank, "I'll pack this one along, too," and he slipped it into one of the pockets of his big reefer.
They walked in silence for a few minutes until they had passed the end of the village, and then Hank put his hand on the boy's arm.
"You've got a right hunch," he said abruptly, in a low voice. "There's somethin' in the wind."
"What makes you think so?" asked Colin.
The other pointed vaguely to sea.