“Any strangers around here?” queried the young skipper, after the joiner, his work completed, had gone aboard.
“Only a young black boy,” Hank replied. “He seemed curious to look over the boat, but 86 he didn’t offer to go below, or touch anything, so I didn’t chase him off.”
“Cast off, Hank. Give us some power, Joe, and we’ll get back to Lonely Island,” declared the young captain, going to the wheel.
Hardly more than a minute later the “Restless” was gliding out of the harbor.
“Guess Hank’s young negro visitor left a note,” called up Joe, showing in the doorway of the motor room and holding forth a note. Hank took it, passing it to Halstead.
“Mind the wheel a minute, Hank, please,” requested Tom, looking closely at the envelope.
It was addressed only to “Halstead,” the writing being in red, and thick, as though laid on with the point of a stick. The message on the sheet inside was crisp and to the point. It ran:
If you think your doings have been forgotten, you’ll soon know differently!
“Humph!” muttered Joe, following up, and taking the sheet as his chum held it out. “That must be from Anson Dalton.”
“Or Captain Dave Lemly, of the ‘Black Betty,’” returned Tom, without a trace of concern in his tone.