He did not care to put another feather in the cap of his rival—his rescuer though he had been.
“Pardon me, Captain De Long, but Mr. Merrill pointed out to me a while ago with his glass his own home, and he may know,” said Herbert Nazro, who had heard the captain questioning Clemmons.
“Ah, yes, he is the very man! Send Mr. Merrill here at once,” said the captain, with considerable eagerness.
Mark Merrill reported promptly.
“Mr. Merrill, your home is near here, I am told?”
“My mother dwells in the large mansion, sir, you see on the cliff yonder, a league and a half away, but it is not our own home, sir.”
“Do you know of any harborage in here which we can tow into with our boats, for yonder seems like a good anchorage ground?”
“That, sir, is a death trap with a storm from seaward, for the coasters call it Hopeless Haven. Yonder, where you see the cliff, is a harbor, and a safe one, though small, and the entrance is dangerous.”
“Do you know these waters well?”
“Perfectly, sir,” was the response, and there was no boasting in the reply.