After the boat had made three or four trips, Ben went across and shook Martin gently.
The latter opened his eyes, and looked at him vacantly.
"What's the matter?" he said, thickly.
"We've got to Brooklyn," said Ben. "If you want to go home, we'll have to go off the boat."
James Martin rose mechanically, and, walking through the cabin, passed out upon the pier, and then through the gates.
"Where'll we go now?" asked Ben. "Is it far off?"
"Yes," said Martin. "We'll take a horse-car."
"All right, gov'nor; just tell us what one we want, and we'll jump aboard."
Martin was sufficiently in his senses to be able to impart this information correctly. He made no objection to Ben's paying the fare for both, which the latter did, as a matter of policy, thinking that in his present friendly relations with Mr. Martin he was likely to obtain the information he desired, with considerably less difficulty than he anticipated. On the whole, Ben plumed himself on his success, and felt that as a detective he had done very well.
Martin got out at the proper place, and Ben of course got out with him.