“What apology shall I make to your father and mother for going away at such short notice?”
“You needn’t make any. Leave it to me, and I will fix it all right. Pack your trunk as soon as you can, and I will take you up to Havre de Grace in the Firefly. I am sorry, indeed, that the visit from which you expected to derive so much pleasure, has ended in this way, but it is too late to remedy the matter now. I blame myself for taking you over to Barr’s cabin yesterday. If we had kept away from there, this thing would never have happened.”
“If Don should happen to turn up after all, you won’t lisp a word to lead him or any one else to suspect that I knew anything about his abduction, will you?”
“Not a word—not a blessed word. You may depend upon that.”
While the boys were talking in this way, they were paddling toward the shore in the canoe which Enoch used in going to and from the Firefly. When they reached the house, Lester went at once to his room, leaving Enoch to explain matters to his parents, which he did, by telling them that Lester had just heard some news that he did not care to make public, but which rendered it necessary that he should start for Rochdale at the earliest possible moment. Mr. and Mrs. Williams were sorry to have him go before his visit was half over, and expressed the hope that he would return at some future time and finish it. This Lester promised to do, but without the least intention of keeping his word. If he once got safely out of Barr’s way, he told himself, he would not willingly come in his path again. He was afraid of the duck-shooter, as he had reason to be, and it was not until Enoch’s home had been left far behind, and the lights at Havre de Grace came into view, that he began to breathe easily again. But he wasn’t clear of Barr yet, if he had only known it.
The wharf at which Enoch landed was brilliantly lighted, and a large force of men was engaged in loading a coaster that was almost ready to sail. Leaning against a snubbing-post close by, was the familiar figure of a man who seemed to take a deep interest in all that was going on around him, although what he could see that was new or novel in so simple a proceeding as the loading of a coasting vessel, Enoch could not determine. The man was Barr, and Enoch discovered and recognized him just in time to warn Lester, who went down the companion-ladder in two jumps.
“What do you suppose he is doing here at this time of night?” asked Jones. “He ought to be out with that big gun.”
“He has some business on hand, you may depend upon that,” replied Enoch. “What it is, I can’t even guess; but I am sure on one point, and that is, if we want to get Lester to the depot without seeing trouble on the way, we must move away from here and land him at some pier higher up.”
“You don’t imagine that Barr would have anything to say about it, do you?” said Jones, who did not believe that the duck-shooter was reckless enough to raise a storm in which he was sure to be the chief sufferer.
“I know he would. If he saw Lester boarding the train, he would try to stop him by threatening him with exposure. Let’s get rid of Lester the easiest way we can, and then make a solemn promise that we will never have anything to do with another like him as long as we live.”