It was not without thoroughly understanding the situation that John Garrison Rayne told himself he would be in danger if he did not get away before Nick Carter could communicate with the shore.
Even if it should be impossible to telegraph, that motor boat was a swift-moving craft, and it would take very little time for it to get to the wharf from the Cherokee, if the famous detective should determine to go, instead of trying to signal.
It happened that Rayne was just stepping on the quay as the motor boat swirled alongside of the steamer.
Nick Carter, no longer dressed as a sailor, but in a neat, light, business suit, stepped upon the platform at the foot of the sea ladder, while his two assistants—who also had changed their attire—followed him closely.
Nick had removed the heavy beard he had worn as Joe Sykes, the boatswain, and there was little in his face to remind one of the sailor except his penetrating dark eyes.
Patsy and Chick, too, had changed their faces, so that no one on board the steamer would be likely to suspect that they ever had been members of the crew, taking the hard work, and the equally hard language of the bullying mate, all as part of the day’s work.
Captain Lawton was worried over the taking away of the suit case. He had begun to feel misgivings, and it had disturbed his nerves. So he scowled when he saw three strangers boarding his ship.
“What do you want?” was his inhospitable greeting, as Nick gained the top of the ladder.
“I am a detective, and I’ve come to see your passenger, Paul Clayton,” replied Nick Carter, as he looked the skipper up and down. “He took passage with you under the name of Miles. Where is he?”
“Search me,” grinned the captain.