"Hello aboard the Merle," shouted Castleport.
"Hello?" answered a voice from forward, and in a moment a tall, burly figure appeared on deck by the ladder.
"What is it?" asked the tall man. "What d' you want?"
"Hello, Camper," cried Jack, recognizing the voice as that of his uncle's sailing-master. "Hello, Camper, don't you know me?"
He sprang up the steps and gained the deck.
"Why, Mr. Castleport," the skipper cried in a hearty tone, "whatever are you doin' here? Thought you was over to the Island. How are you, sir?"
"Cold," Jack answered with a laugh. "How's yourself? Fit as usual, I suppose. President aboard?"
"No, sir. He's gone ashore to some sort of a gatherin'. I never thought to see you here, sir."
"Oh, I came over to join the yacht here. I got tired of waiting. I shan't want you any longer," he called down to the figure in the dinghy below. "Much obliged."
The dinghy and Dave melted into the blackness of the night.