"Have any of you men ever seen that negro? Have you any idea who he is, and where he can be found?"
None of the six admitted any knowledge of the mysterious black man.
"Then I want you to keep his description in mind," continued Tom. "Keep your eyes open, at all times, for any chance glimpse of him. The man who brings me information leading to the capture of that big negro will receive a reward of one hundred dollars in gold." "Keep your eyes open, won't you? You may find him prowling around the wall at any time. He may walk out on the wall, or he may be found hiding near in a boat. Watch for him."
All promised eagerly that they would do all in their power to earn the hundred dollars.
"That's what I call good business!" cried Mr. Prenter approvingly, as soon as the foreman and the men had gone.
"Does the hundred dollars come out of the company treasury, Reade, or from your own pocket?" inquired President Bascomb.
"Really I hadn't thought of the matter," answered Tom.
"The company can afford to pay its own bills," broke in Mr. Prenter, rather gruffly.
"It's about time to turn in, isn't it?" asked Mr. Bascomb, striking a match and glancing at his watch.
"I'm going to stay up a little longer, and talk with Reade about the dread mystery of our million dollar breakwater, if he'll let me," hinted Mr. Prenter.