"Yes, sir. Certainly."
"All of us chaps in the cabin are going to turn in soon," continued Mr. Baldwin, with a slight yawn. "We're fagged, both from the lack of sleep and the suspense. Now, however, our minds are easier. Yonder is the boat that carries Frank Rollings and the millions he stole from the bank. Our fuel will last as long as theirs will. We can follow as far as they can go."
"Wouldn't it be a jarring surprise if it turned out that we've been following a dummy, Mr. Baldwin?" Halstead asked. "What if we follow for days and days, yet, and then learn that neither Rollings nor his plunder is on board?"
Joseph Baldwin started, then retorted:
"Yes; but it won't happen, Captain. In the first place, the detectives of the Bankers' Association found out positively that Rollings had gone aboard, and that the yacht had then got under way at once. The captain of that boat was expecting Rollings—was prepared for him—and has the defaulter on board at this moment."
"I hope so, sir, for I'm satisfied that we're yet going to lay alongside of that craft and search her."
"Of course we are. Good night, Captain."
"Good night, sir. I'm going to turn in, myself, for a while."
Half an hour later the young skipper was sound asleep. So, for that matter, were all the officers and crew who were not on duty.
Sky and surrounding atmosphere continued clear through the rest of Dick Davis's watch on the bridge. That young second mate was pacing back and forth contentedly. The two yachts, now making about a fourteen-mile speed, were close together, and Davis had little to watch save the general handling of the boat.