“Sartin, sure,” answered Captain DeMott.
“I must give you credit for capable management,” Havens went on, with a smile. “How did you ever get me out of the stateroom?”
DeMott chuckled, shaking his broad shoulders, but did not answer the question. Then his wicked face hardened.
“Fishing for millionaires in New York,” he commented, “is about the surest and safest sport a-going at this time.”
The old fellow poured himself a liberal portion of whiskey from the bottle and drank it greedily, smacking his lips heartily.
“We had trouble getting you to the house,” he finally said, “and were afraid to carry you from there on board the Nancy. So the old woman says to me that if we would leave you to her care for a short time, she’d send you into the cabin of this here vessel of your own accord.”
“Very cleverly done!” commented Havens.
The man took another drink out of the bottle and refilled his foul briar pipe. Havens sat in a brown study during the latter operation. Captain DeMott seemed to be the only person besides himself on board the boat, and he was wondering if it would be possible to overcome the fellow and secure his freedom.
Once out of the boat and into the river, he would be safe from pursuit, for a police barge would undoubtedly spring into motion at the splash.
Desperate as the situation was, the young millionaire decided that he ought at least to make the attempt.