“Henry. I understand he has a house on the shore of Puget Sound. You look as if you knew him!”
Jimmy said nothing for a few moments, though he saw that the others were watching him curiously. Bethune’s suggestion had given him a shock, because it seemed impossible that the pleasant, cultured gentleman he had met on board the Empress should be guilty of common fraud. Besides, it was preposterous to suppose that Ruth Osborne could be the daughter of a rogue.
“I do know him; that is, I met him on our last voyage. But you’re mistaken,” he said firmly.
“It’s possible,” Bethune admitted. “Time will show. I’ve only a suspicion to act on.”
“How do you mean to act on it? What do you propose to do?”
Bethune gave him a searching glance.
“Nothing, until we have emptied the strong-room and we’ll have to consider what’s most advisable then. In the meanwhile, I expect the opposition will let us feel their hand; there may be developments during the winter.” He turned to Jaques. “We’ll lay the sloop up out of sight with the next big tides and then go south and look for work. In the spring we’ll ask you to grubstake us, and get back to the wreck as soon as the weather permits. I think that’s our best plan.”
The others agreed, and soon afterward the party broke up. As they went back to the boat Bethune turned to Jimmy.
“Do you feel inclined to tell me what you know about Osborne?” he asked.
“I only know that you’re on the wrong track. He isn’t the man to join in a conspiracy of the kind you’re hinting at.”