“Yes, boss, reckon dat am de name, come ter fink ob it.”
“The Endymion is docked here, then?”
“She sho’ is, boss, but she won’ be long. We’s got orders to git a wiggle on. She’s gwine to sail right away. Come on, Jake, we ain’t got no license ter be talkin’ here. We’s likely to miss de ship.”
“One question more!” cried Jack, as the men hurried off. “When did the ship dock?”
“Night befo’ de day befo’ yisterday,” said Jake.
“Do you know the name of her wireless operator?”
“Ah dunno. Fink it’s Comein or suthin’ lak dat. But see here, we all kain’t answer no mo’ question. Goo’ night.”
The two negroes hurried off, leaving Jack with swimming senses. So the Endymion was in the harbor! Had docked the night before the Tropic Queen! It was all plain enough now to the boy. Cummings was her wireless man. That explained his connection with Jarrold. And the yacht was to sail that night, within a few minutes probably, and Jarrold, in disguise, had blown the Tropic Queen’s safe open.
Jack’s head buzzed. What was the key to it all? What had Jarrold blown the safe for just before he was hurrying to sea on his yacht in this clandestine fashion?
And then, like a bolt of lightning, the explanation struck him.