"He will be gone in the morning," Pendleton said. A look of dismay appeared in his face. "Good Heavens! If he suspects anything he will push off at once!"
"Would you be sorry?" Pen asked astonished.
Pendleton was momentarily disconcerted. "Well no ... of course not. But I must do my duty just the same ... This is an important case. I must act with prudence. The eyes of the world will be upon us now."
"Oh, the newspapers!" cried Pen. "They poison our lives!"
Pendleton was already at the door of the room. "Are you going to take him single-handed?" queried Pen.
He hesitated, puffing a little bit to conceal his discomposure. "The negroes..." he hazarded.
"Ellick and Theodo'!" said Pen with curling lip.
Pendleton rubbed his bald crown. "You're right," he said. "Worse than useless. I'll go to the lighthouse for Weems Locket and his assistant."
"You'll have to pass the tent on the beach."
"I'll row around in my skiff," said Pendleton craftily.