“Or any of the naval officers?”
“Nor they, either. Is it anything important?”
“Why, yes, in a way. It concerns Mr. Lockyer particularly. Do you know where he’s gone?”
“No, and I wish we did. He left in a boat for the shore some few minutes ago.”
“Then that must have been the row boat in which he was riding—that one I passed on my way out here.”
“I guess so. A bearded man was rowing it?”
“Couldn’t see that. It was getting pretty dark. Bother it all, I wish I could have seen Mr. Lockyer before he left.”
A sudden intuition came to Ned. Perhaps this young reporter knew something of the mysterious business that had taken Mr. Lockyer ashore. At any rate, there was no harm in asking him.
“To be frank with you,” he said, “we are pretty anxious about Mr. Lockyer. We learned before he left that he had an appointment at a lonely place along the beach. I recollected that his boatman was a bad character with whom we formerly came in contact.”