“Going on somewhere else to finish, I guess,” said Jake. “How much do you reckon she has discharged?”
“Fifteen hundred tons, if she was full when she came in, and I imagine they hadn’t much room in the sheds before. I wonder where Kenwardine gets the money, unless his friend, Richter, is rich.”
“Richter has nothing to do with the business,” Jake replied. “He was to have had a share, but they couldn’t come to a satisfactory agreement.”
Dick looked at him sharply. “How do you know?”
“I really don’t know much. Kenwardine said something about it one night when I was at his house.”
“Did somebody ask him?”
“No,” said Jake, “I don’t think so. The subject, so to speak, cropped up and he offered us the information.”
Then he talked of something else and soon afterwards the coast receded as they crossed a wide bay. It was about four o’clock in the afternoon when they reached the farthest point from land. There was no wind, and in the foreground the sea ran in long undulations whose backs blazed with light. Farther off, the gentle swell was smoothed out and became an oily expanse that faded into the glitter on the horizon, but at one point the latter was faintly blurred. A passing vessel, Dick thought, and occupied himself with the engine, for he had not brought the fireman. Looking round some time afterwards, he saw that the ship had got more distinct and picked up his glasses.
She was a two-masted steamer and, cut off by the play of reflected light, floated like a mirage between sky and sea. After studying her for a minute, Dick gave Jake the glasses.
“It’s a curious effect, but not uncommon on a day like this,” he said. “She’s like the big Spanish boats and has their tall black funnel.”