'You can look,' said Williams shortly. If, as is probable, he knew that Ticehurst was not in Portland, he also knew he was not on board the Oriana. The most careful search failed to find him.
'Why don't you take us alongside and discharge the wheat,' said Gregg savagely. 'Perhaps he's under two thousand tons of it.'
The second mate was almost as cross as Williams. As he said afterwards, the way the marshal acted, a full-sized English skipper might be concealed in a sextant case.
At last the intruders gave up and went ashore.
'You needn't trouble to come on board again,' said Williams. 'I'm skipper now and shall take her to sea.'
But if that was true it is odd that Ticehurst was not to be found in Astoria. He had disappeared. The United States Marshal, who was still on board the Oriana, laughed, for he had no great sympathy with the state officials of Oregon.
'I guess your skipper has a head,' he opined, as he lounged against the rail and ejected tobacco juice into the blue-grey waters of the great Columbia River. 'Tell me where he is. I won't give you away.'
But even Williams did not know. He went to sea next morning, and was towed across the bar by the tug Comet. The Oregon people came on board again and made another search.
'Oh, come to sea with me,' said Williams with a savage eye. He had a notion that if they did there would be part of the crew that Captain Ticehurst would leave at his mercy.
'Don't get rowdy, young fellow,' said the marshal; 'it's a waste of natural energy better used in learning how to be civil to your superiors.'