The master of the craft, in his orders, made no distinction between our hero and the other members of the crew.
Meantime the boat danced over the waves, and, after an hour or two, was cruising across the track of inward-bound vessels.
Soon there came the announcement of the lights of a vessel, and the "Nancy" was cautiously run on a course which would enable her captain to take observations.
The lights proved to be those of an ocean steamer, and the great leviathan, with its precious freight of human souls, plowed past the taut little yacht distant only half a mile.
When the lights were first seen, the detective was standing forward of the mainmast, and suddenly a pallor overspread his face. If it should prove that the lights were those of an incoming smuggler, the critical moment had arrived for him.
Our hero was intently watching the lights, as were the balance of the crew, waiting for a signal, and so absorbed was he as not to observe the presence of Sol Burton close by his side.
A few moments passed, and the lights were made out, and the word was passed around, "It's a steamer!"
The detective turned to go aft, when he found himself face to face with Sol Burton.
The two men had met as comrades once or twice before, during the two or three hours the boat had been out on the sea, but not a word had passed between them; but as they met after the distinguishing of the lights, Burton addressed our hero and said:
"You're the new man?"