Jack, at the wheel, watched them descend the companion and enter the cabin, where they remained only a few moments. He heard them conversing in low tones and though he could not have explained it, he felt relieved when they reappeared on deck. It seemed to him, however, that an indefinable change had come over the two passengers in that short interval. Hegan was, if anything, a shade more affable, and, slapping his thigh heartily, laughed boisterously at every little joke he made.
“They’re a queer couple, aren’t they?” commented Jack, when the men had gone ashore again at the wharf.
Rod was sitting on the top of the deck-house, with his eyes narrowed as he watched their late passengers walk away.
“I give it up,” he said. “It’s none of our business what they’re after, of course, and they’re too deep for me.” He paused for a moment, with his head held on one side reflectively. Then: “Jack, I can’t help wondering whether one of those chaps knows anything about that person who was prowling about the sloop at midnight.”
Jack nodded and looked up into the clear blue sky, as though seeking inspiration.
“I have wondered that myself,” he said. “But what’s the use of wondering? As Cap’n Crumbie says, there are a hundred million people in the United States, and it might have been any one of them.”
During the first few weeks while the ferry was running Jack had purposely avoided giving his father exact figures of what the Sea-Lark had earned, as he wished to save up a pleasant surprise for him. More than once Mr. Holden had made inquiries on the subject, expressing the hope that his son was not being disappointed.
“You’re looking better for it, anyway, my lad,” he declared one evening while they were sitting together on the porch of the cottage. “Not that you were sick, but a month out in the sea air all day makes a difference to any one. If you don’t gain any more than that we shan’t have anything to grumble at, shall we?”
“N-no,” replied Jack. “But you’d rather the sloop and I fetched a dollar or two in, wouldn’t you?”