“I’ll watch to-night,” Case volunteered, but Clay had other views. The conversation with Case had brought back to his mind something Frank Porter had said on the night of his first appearance at the Rambler’s pier. There certainly was mystery connected with the boy’s sudden appearance, with his watching about in the storm for a view of the Rambler and her crew, with his anxiety to get back to the country he had left with the boys as companions.
So he explained to Case that he was not at all sleepy, but might be on the next night, and so persuaded the boy to go off to his bunk, with the understanding that he (Case) should watch next if it was thought best to station a guard. As soon as Case was asleep, Clay went to the cabin and quietly awoke Frank Porter.
“Come out on deck,” he instructed the boy, “I want to talk with you.”
In five minutes the lad was out on the prow, standing by Clay’s side, his face white, his figure looking weak and irresolute.
“I know what you’re going to say,” the boy began, without waiting for Clay to open the conversation. “I have been wanting to see you alone ever since that boat,” pointing to the steamer, “anchored near the Rambler.”
“You recognize her?” asked Clay.
“The Senorita? Oh, yes, I saw her dropping anchor here just as we reached the dock to-night, on our way into the city.”
“And you saw the boat pulling for the shore?” “Yes; don’t you remember I loitered behind the others, and that Alex came back for me?”
“Yes; well, you saw a man in that boat you knew?”
“Yes, sir; a man I know and fear.”