Tom put a few more queries, though without betraying too deep an interest. Farmer Sanderson answered with an appearance of utter frankness, but Tom learned nothing from the replies.
“I wonder,” ventured Jed Prentiss, after they had driven some distance along the road, “whether you think your Spanish-looking party had anything to do with Ted Dunstan’s being missing?”
Tom laughed good-naturedly, but made no reply, thinking that the easiest way of turning off the question.
“Say,” broke in Jed again after a while, “I wish you could get me a job aboard the ‘Meteor.’”
“What kind of a job?” inquired the young captain.
“Why, I’m generally handy aboard a boat. Been out on fishing craft a good deal. The job I struck Mr. Dunstan for, some weeks ago, was that of steward. You see, I’m a pretty fair sea cook, too. But Mr. Dunstan said he didn’t need a steward or a cook aboard. I wonder if he’d change his mind.”
“He might,” replied Tom.
“Do you think you’d like to have me aboard?”
“From what I’ve seen of you, Jed, I think I would,” replied Tom Halstead heartily. “At any rate, I’ll speak to Mr. Dunstan about you.”
“Will you, though?” cried Jed delightedly. “Say, I’d give my head—no, but the hair off the top of my head—to go cruising about on the ‘Meteor.’ It must be a king’s life.”