"I have been working at that just to see if I could stand it in the hay-field," said Joe, placing his hand on his side and sinking down on the lounge, "but I find that I can't. Halloo, Hank! What brought you back to the house all on a sudden? Your face is pale, too."
"Father," said Hank, in a trembling voice, "where did you say you saw Samson last night?"
"Out in front of his saloon," replied Joe. "He and Barlow were out there the whole evening. Why do you ask that question?"
"They have been up to something, and I wish I could prove it on them," said Hank, seating himself in the nearest chair and resting his elbows on his knees. "Bob and Ben Watson have not been home since last night."
"Well, what of that? They have gone off a-fishing, likely."
"But their beds haven't been slept in. The doors of the house are all open and the lamp burning, just as it was when Bob left there."
"Why, what do you think has become of them?" asked Mrs. Lufkin, who stood by holding a dish of fried potatoes in her hand.
"They have been shipped off to sea; that's what's the matter with them. The J. W. Smart isn't in her berth, either. She's gone."
Mrs. Lufkin was overcome with astonishment, while Joe drew his chair up to the table and sat down to his breakfast as if nothing had happened.
"You mark my words: They have gone off somewhere, and of course there wasn't anybody to leave word with where they had gone. They'll be around all right in the course of the day."