“What was it?”
“Merely the impression of her keel in the clay at the bottom.”
“And I suppose that from that impression, which would mean nothing at all to me, you have read enough facts about the pirate to fill quite a respectable book, eh?”
Nick laughed.
“No, Max,” he said. “For once you are wrong, and for once I did not find anything more than you would have discovered had you gone there in my place. All I know from what I saw there is that a vessel’s keel has rested on the bottom within the last twenty-four hours. I could tell, of course, approximately, her length, and from that could make a good guess at her breadth of beam, but you have already done that for me. Now, old chap, let’s get into our clothes.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were reclothed and seated again in their favorite chairs under the awning.
“And now, Nick, what next?” asked Kane.
“First, tell me what yacht is that one, heading in here toward the anchorage?” replied Nick, pointing over Kane’s shoulder.
“Oh, that? She is Burton’s auxiliary, the Harkaway,” replied Kane. “There will be half a dozen more of them in here before sundown. There is a regular meeting of the club to-night, and I shouldn’t wonder if there would be a score or more of yachts in here between now and midnight.”
“If the pirate only knew that, it might prove to be a harvest for him, don’t you think?” asked Nick.