“Jack Holden, eh? If he won’t hire her he might be willing to sell her, maybe.”
“It isn’t very likely, but you can go and ask him. I guess you’ll find him down there now.”
“Thanks,” said the man laconically, and presently went off.
But the stranger, though he went to the ferry, was in no apparent hurry to tackle Jack on the question of hiring or buying the sloop. He stood chatting with Cap’n Crumbie on the wharf until the Sea-Lark returned, and then crossed to the Point and strolled off.
“That’s a rum-looking bird you took across just now,” commented Cap’n Crumbie, as soon as Jack landed back.
“I didn’t notice him specially,” replied Jack. “At least, not at first. He didn’t seem to be able to keep still for more than a minute. I noticed his hands, though, when he gave me his fare. He must have been doing some pretty hard work for a long time, and yet he wasn’t dressed quite like a workman.”
Cap’n Crumbie grunted. He prided himself on being able to distinguish a day tripper or a drummer from a regular visitor on sight, and an artist from both.
“I couldn’t place him. He don’t belong here, anyway,” replied the watchman.
“He was cross-eyed or something, wasn’t he?” Jack asked.
Cap’n Crumbie shook his head.