“I think he will,” replied Nick.
When the detective was alone, he seated himself, with a freshly lighted cigar, to think.
“I never built up a theory upon so small a fact before,” he mused. “If anybody else suggested the like of it to me, I would not entertain it; but, all the same, I think intuition has a great deal to do with our decisions in life, and if intuition amounts to a thing, it is as sure as shooting that Count Cadillac has got something to do with that pirate. It is only a guess, pure and simple, but I have won out more than once on a guess, and, in this particular matter, I can’t hurt the count any by making it, while I may help myself a good deal. The pirate might come in here to-night, anyhow, even if the count has nothing to do with him, for if he is keeping tabs very closely on things, he must know that a lot of yachts will anchor here in the next few hours; but if, on the other hand, the count has got something to do with him, and there should be grounds for alarm, he would find a way to notify Mr. Pirate to keep off the grass for to-night.”
The afternoon waned and merged into evening. The shadows fell, and night was at hand. The stars came out, and, with them, a small boat pushed off from the shore and approached the yacht.
A few moments later Kane, accompanied by Chick, came aboard. In the meantime, many yachts and craft had entered the little harbor anchorage, until now, as darkness fell, there was at least a score of them all told, of all sizes, shapes, and designs, and there was no doubt that by ten o’clock there would be at least half as many more.
“I suppose you have figured it all out, Nick?” said Kane, when he came aboard.
“Yes; I have been figuring a little.”
“Well, I have saved you one task. I have told Chick the whole story: mine and Burton’s, too.”
“Good! I am glad of that.”
“What time do you figure that Captain Sparkle will pay us a visit, if he comes at all?”