“Aye, aye, sir,” Ned assured him, “and you take good care of yourself, sir, for the Lockyer wouldn’t be much good without you.”
As he said this, Ned could have sworn that a half smile, which he immediately hastened to conceal, flitted across the visage of the bearded man at the oars.
“Oh, I’ll take good care of myself, Ned,” Mr. Lockyer said lightly, as the oars of the boatman began to dip and the little craft moved off. Before long it was almost out of sight, but still Ned watched it through the fast-gathering dusk.
As he gazed he mused on the strange errand that had called the inventor ashore to the lonely Banta House. A more isolated place it would be hard to think of.
“It’s queer,” mused the boy, “mighty queer. If it wasn’t that Gradbarr——Wow!”
He jumped suddenly erect from the conning tower rail against which he had been leaning, and, rushing up to Herc, who stood near by, he seized him by the neck and shook him violently.
“Wake up, Herc, you red-headed dreamer!” he exclaimed excitedly. “Wake up, and listen to something!”
“I will if you take that hand off the back of my neck,” retorted Herc. “It interferes with my hearing seriously.”
“Oh, don’t try to be funny. Listen. I’ve just thought who that bearded boatman reminded me of——”