When the sand was all but covered, the boat grounded close by and Marston got on board. Wyndham gave him a nod and Marston noted that he was hot and breathless. A heavy oar he had thrown down lay in the sculling notch.
"The boys went out to make fast a warp and saw the dinghy drifting up," Wyndham remarked. "We reckoned we had better start."
"Thanks!" said Marston, who imagined his comrade did not want to talk just then. "Have you got a cigarette?"
They shoved off and when they reached Columbine went to the cabin. Marston mixed a cocktail.
"There's enough for two," he said. "I expect you sculled pretty hard."
"I did," Wyndham admitted. "The boys shoved her along handsomely; looks as if they liked you, but the tide was rising fast. Well? What were you shooting at?"
"I imagined it was at the man who sent the dinghy adrift."
"Ah," said Wyndham, "I wondered—didn't think you'd carelessly stop too long. In fact, I was pretty anxious until I heard the gun. But do you reckon somebody did push off the dinghy?"
Marston stated his grounds for believing this, and Wyndham, after pondering for a few moments, looked hard at him.
"Well, I suppose you see what it implies?"