The nabob was no better satisfied with Donald's answers than he had been with those of Laud Cavendish, except that the former looked him full in the face when he spoke. He obtained no information, and went home to seek it at other sources.
"I think I won't go out again, Donald," said Mr. Ramsay, when Captain Patterdale had left. "I don't feel very well, and you may go alone."
"Do you feel very sick, father?" asked the son, in tones of sympathy.
"No; but I think I will go into the house and take some medicine. You can run over to Turtle Head alone," added the boat-builder, as he walked towards the house.
"Can't you go any how, Sam?" said Donald, turning to his friend.
"No, I must go home now. I have to drive over to Searsport after my sister," replied Sam, as he left the yacht, and walked up the wharf.
Donald hoisted the jib of the Sea Foam, shoved off her head, and laid her course, with the wind over the quarter, for Turtle Head—distant about seven miles.