Still, however, the black man refused to say a word. Constable Jennison tried his hand at making the fellow speak, but without success. At last they gave it up. The negro was taken to a cell, left under watch, and the others went outside.
“I’m going back up the road,” Jennison announced. “Want to come with me, boys?”
“I think they’d better stay by the boat, in case anything turns up that we want the craft,” Musgrave broke in.
So Tom and Joe struck out for the pier, finding Jed mighty glad to have them back once more. For an hour the three boys sat on the “Meteor’s” deckhouse and talked. After that the time began to hang heavily on their hands.
Broad daylight came with still no word from the seekers, nor from any other point. At a little after four o’clock Mr. Musgrave came down to tell them that they might as well return to Nantucket.
It was six o’clock when the “Meteor” berthed at the island. Jed had served a breakfast on the trip over. As soon as the boat was docked Jed hurried into the broad bunk off the cabin passageway, while Tom and Joe, yawning with weariness, lay down on the engine-room lockers.
“This is Sunday morning and to-morrow morning Ted Dunstan must be in court with his father or lose a tremendously big fortune,” groaned Tom. “Oh, when we’ve been so near to rescuing him, why can’t we have him safely home under his father’s roof?”
“Maybe I’ll have the answer thought out by the time I wake up,” gaped Joe Dawson. “But just at this present moment I’m so tired I don’t know whether I’m an imitation engineer or a clambake.”
Then another sound came from his berth. Dawson was snoring.