“Well, what was he watching the boat for?”
“He explained that. He was lonesome.”
“Then why couldn’t he have gone home?” grumbled Case. “I just think he knows something about where Jule is, or why he went away. I wish we had asked him.”
“I’m getting anxious about Jule,” Clay said. “There may be some connection between his absence and the robbery.”
“I’ll just bet he took the money with him when he went away!” exclaimed Alex. “If he had to go away somewhere, and there was no one to leave in the boat, that’s just what he would have done.”
“When he comes,” Clay advised, echoing Alex’s request, “don’t say a word to him about the money. If he has it, or if he put it away in another place, he will say so soon enough. There’s someone else on the deck!” he added, as a quick step was heard.
“This seems to be a sort of reception night,” Alex laughed. “Wonder who the new person can be? Why, it’s Jule!”
This last sentence as the door opened and a boy much smaller than the others bounded inside. He was covered from the crown of his red head to the soles of his feet with oilskins, which, dripping, made small lakes and rivers on the cabin floor.
Alex darted forward and began pummeling the boy on the shoulders with his fists.
“Where have you been?” he cried. “You’ve given us a bad evening, old man. Come. Tell us about it.”