Cowed by Ned’s determined manner, but more especially by the easy fashion in which the boy had quelled him, holding him helpless as an infant, Anderson “got.” But as he strode off through the bushes there was a dark look on his face, a look that boded no good to the Dreadnought Boys, who, however, hardly gave the matter a further thought. Seeing Sim safe on his way home, they turned once more to their path and arrived at the boat yard in due time.
“Took you fellows longer than you expected, didn’t it?” asked Mr. Lockyer, as they appeared.
“We attended to a little business on the way,” replied Ned quietly; “and now if you are ready, Mr. Lockyer, we’ll fit that pipe.”
In the meantime, Anderson, instead of going home, had hied himself to the village hotel, which boasted of a drinking bar. In this place he sought solace for his woes as many another foolish or weak man has done before him. In the midst of his angry musings, a man stepped in who, apparently, recognized Anderson, for he stopped short and gave a low whistle.
“Anderson! Wonder what he is doing here at this time of day.”
Stepping forward, he came up behind the disgruntled foreman with an appearance of great cordiality.
“Why, hello, old man,” he exclaimed. “Work through at the yard? What are you doing here at this hour?”
“Gradbarr!” exclaimed Anderson, surprised in his turn, as he faced the other. “Why ain’t you down at the yard?”
“Oh, after that blow-up I decided to quit. Too risky a job for a family man like me.”
“Where is your family?” inquired Anderson. “Never knew you had one.”