Twenty minutes’ ride in the chill night air brought them to a long, low pier that extended out into the black water. Above on the hillside the windows of the big fishing settlement on Long Island gleamed comfortable and yellow.
Thomas ran his dory close to the landing-stage and then reversed the engine so that at the time most convenient for Templeton to step off the boat had lost all motion. The lawyer landed, but Jimmie did not shut off his engine. Instead he turned it on full speed and backed away from the dock.
“Hey, you, where are you going?” called Templeton, vaguely alarmed for the first time.
“Back to the village,” answered Thomas, sending his motor into the forward speed. “I got something very important to do there.”
“But in which house is Schofield?” cried the other. “You said you would show me.”
There was no reply, and it is possible that, due to the noise of the engine, Thomas had not heard the protest at all.
Nat Burns arrived at Shannon’s boarding-house slightly in advance of the time named, and read Templeton’s note saying that he had gone to Castalia to nab Code while he had the chance.
“Who did Templeton go with?” he asked fearfully of the landlady.
“Mr. Thomas,” replied that worthy.