He was a handsome man, too, this Count Cadillac, with his shining, black eyes, blacker mustache and imperial, gleaming teeth, and clear, white skin. And his manners were faultless, his dress perfect without being foppish.
Nick greeted Mrs. Kane, and acknowledged the introductions while the yacht was backing into the river; and then, turning to Kane, while he accepted one of the deck-chairs, he remarked:
“Now, Max, give us the pirate story.”
“You will understand, before I finish,” said Kane, “why I insisted upon your coming here before I told it. I wanted witnesses to support my statements, for I have an idea that you wouldn’t believe my unsupported word about this affair.”
“Oh, yes——”
“Wait. You haven’t heard the story yet. It’s really the most incredible thing you ever heard of, from beginning to end. I’ll give you my word that I wouldn’t believe a word of it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”
“It begins promisingly,” said Nick.
“You wait. We left Newport yesterday, about noon, I think; between noon and one o’clock. We loafed along, for nobody was in a hurry, and last night, late in the evening, we ran in at the American Yacht Club anchorage—you know where that is, eh?”
“Yes.”
“We ran in there, and anchored for the night.”