"I'm goin' to stop, anyway," Eben replied. "Dad'll be waitin' fer me.
He went ashore with ma."
It was only with difficulty that Grimsby repressed a chuckle of delight. He could hardly believe it possible that Eben had fallen so easily into his snare. But as he glanced at the boy he saw not the slightest sign of suspicion upon his face. Eben's hands were upon the wheel, and his eyes were fixed upon a steamer coming down river. Grimsby was certain now that Miss Randall was at Mrs. Hampton's. So far he had met with remarkable success. He wondered how much further he dare go.
"Guess it'll he some wedding," he ventured. "I'll have to get a brand new suit."
"What weddin'?" Eben asked.
"Why, don't you know? Miss Randall's, of course. She's going to marry
Lord Donaster, that swell dude of a chap."
"She's not!" The words snapped, from Eben's lips, and his hands gripped hard upon the wheel as he swung the boat somewhat to the left, while the steamer surged by.
"What makes you say that?" Grimsby questioned. This was the first glimpse he had caught of the boy's feeling, and he surmised its meaning.
"D'ye think she'd marry a thing like Donaster?" Eben contemptuously asked. "She's got more sense."
"So you know her, then?" The question caught Eben off guard, and his face suddenly flushed. Grimsby smiled. "She came up with you, on your last trip, didn't she?"
"How d'ye know that?" Eben's hands let go of the wheel in his amazement.