“Uh!” broke in the other. “The boatswain was in command?”
“Yes. It seems that he was waiting for Captain Stevens.[Pg 48]”
In spite of myself, I started at the name; for as yet I hadn’t stumbled to what way Hallins could have known more about the vessel than I myself. But it came out next breath.
“You must pardon me, Mr. Pawlinson,” continued Hallins haltingly, but as though he must put in the words, “but are you quite positive that you are on the right trail? Dead positive, that is?”
“Why do you ask?” snapped out Pawlinson viciously.
“Simply because I could be almost as dead positive that everything is right in that quarter. I’ve known that boat for some years now. Even when I was working in New York, I used to spend my vacations in Casco Bay, and she has been owned all that time by Mr. Stroth. Why, I’ve even met the owner myself, and upon one occasion was his guest aboard for an afternoon.”
“When was that?” gritted Pawlinson, in a voice which, for all its harshness, carried some uneasiness.
“About four summers ago. Now, what I’m getting at is,” went on the sergeant hurriedly, “the schooner is still owned by the same gentleman, a known yachtsman and above suspicion.”
“Oh, is he?” Pawlinson came to finality. “Well, now, to come to the point, yes. I do know exactly what I am doing; and, furthermore, I’ve no time to waste starting to do it. You say your man who got aboard to-day couldn’t get even an inkling when the start was to be made?”
“Nothing from those on board. But this my man did gather: The vessel can’t start without gasoline; or, at least, the Ruby Light usually does carry considerable.”