“Well, that’s a fact, boy. Mrs. P. and I have had a hard time to make both ends meet this summer. Anything short of robbery or murder with a dollar or two tacked onto it will be a godsend. Our savings are tied up in this little property and we hate to give up. But there’s been mighty little joy-flying or anything else in this line of business since the depression. It’s beginning to look as if we’d have to let the place go unless something turns up soon. So I can’t say I’m not anxious to make some ready money.”
“This job,” said Bill, “is worth five hundred a month, but you’d be expected to keep a closed head about anything that might come up.”
Ezra stared at him in amazement. “You a millionaire in disguise?”
“No—only a midshipman on summer vacation. But Mr. Evans has plenty, and he is going to pay your salary.”
“Gosh! you’re the guy that put the lid on von Hiemskirk and his pirates over to Twin Heads harbor?”
“I helped some,” Bill admitted.
“I’ll say you did! What’s this job—more pirates?”
“No, I don’t think so. To be truthful, the whole thing is much of a mystery to me so far.”
“Well,” Ezra affirmed, “I never earned five hundred a month in my life. One month’s work will put Mrs. P. and me on velvet.”
“Then listen!” Bill gave him a sketch of affairs to date.