“You’ll get along, lad; take my word for that.”
“Your words encourage me, Jack. Any way, I’d rather trust a perfect stranger than Professor Puffer.”
“I surmise you’re right there, lad.”
Bernard was curious to find out whether the professor had discovered the loss of the telltale scrap of paper. He therefore watched him carefully, thinking that he might learn this by his manner. But Professor Puffer didn’t appear to suspect anything, and Bernard took care not to betray by his own manner that he had made any discovery.
Days passed—a period more than long enough to reach their destined port had the Vesta been a steamer, but being only a sailing vessel, contrary winds kept her back, and when twenty days had passed they were still out at sea. Both Jack and Bernard kept the professor under careful watch, but neither one detected anything of a suspicious character.
This Bernard remarked to Jack one day.
“You’re right, lad; the time hasn’t come yet. The mischief he’s up to isn’t on board ship. He will wait till he has you on shore.”
“If he does that, it’ll be too late, for as soon as we reach port, or as soon after as I can, I mean to leave him.”
“That’ll be the best way. Didn’t you tell me he was going to pay you a salary?”
“Yes.”