"Well, I don't see what has become of the old fellow," said Bob. He was not at all alarmed, for Ben was big enough to take care of himself, but he was provoked at being treated that way. "I'll bet I'll give him a piece of my mind when he comes back. And now I'll go and get supper for him. There's no fire in the stove, and he must have gone without his dinner."
To build the fire and put the tea-kettle on was but the work of a few minutes, and to search the cupboard to find the remnants of the food that had been put away from their breakfast was easily done, for Ben had been on board a man-of-war before he began sailing with Captain Nellis, and had learned to do everything up in ship-shape. All the while he listened for the return of Ben Watson, but he listened in vain. Finally, when six o'clock came, his supper was ready, and Bob sat down to it feeling a little uneasy.
"I declare it beats the world where Ben has gone to," said he. "I never knew him to wander off like this, and I'll just put the toast and tea over to keep them warm for him, and then I'll wash up the things that are left. Perhaps by that time he will be here."
In process of time this work was completed, the food on the table covered and the lamps lighted, and then Bob strolled out to the gate to see if he could see any signs of the missing one. The only man he saw was Joe Lufkin, who walked leisurely along, as if he was not going anywhere in particular. It wasn't at all likely that he had met Ben, seeing that he had just come from home, but Bob was anxious to tell somebody, and so he appealed to Joe.
"Good evening, Mr. Lufkin," said he. "Have you met Ben Watson, lately?"
"Howdy! Ben Watson? No, I haven't seen him since twelve o'clock this morning. He was down at the dock then. Has he gone back on you?"
"No, he hasn't gone back on me, but he's gone, and I don't know where to look for him," said Bob. "He has gone afoot, too, for the schooner and the skiff are in their places. I wish, if you meet him down town, you would tell him to hurry up. I am getting tired of waiting for him."
"Well, I will," said Joe. "But there is one thing I would like to speak to you about," said the man, gazing up and down the street to make sure that there was no one within sight. "Let's go back to the house. It is something I don't like to speak to you about, but I have got it to do," he added, unlatching the gate and walking in.
"Something you don't like to speak about?" repeated Bob. "By George! I wonder if he could have found out about that pearl?" he added, mentally. "He won't get any money out of me on the strength of it."
Wondering what excuse he could make to Joe for having Hank's money deposited in his name, Bob turned and walked toward the house, never suspecting treachery from the man who had known him since he was born. He noticed that Joe kept a little way behind him, instead of walking up beside him, but he paid no attention to that, although he often afterward thought of it. Arriving at a place where the path turned and the bushes effectually concealed him from the gate, Joe was all ready for him. His sinewy right arm was drawn back, and Bob sank down beneath a blow as strong as that which felled Ben Watson a few hours before. He had just time to gasp "Joe Lufkin!" and then all was blank to him.