“One good tap on the head with that thing, my lad, and you’d ha’ stopped running ferry-boats for all time,” he said. “That bit o’ string saved your life, I reckon.”
“It looks like it,” the boy admitted. “I wonder whether the Chief of Police will believe now that there’s something wrong or will wait until I’m in the hospital before he does anything!”
“Well, beat it up to the station-house now, and show them that piece of steel. I won’t leave here till you come back. Whether it’s you or the sloop this mysterious feller is after, I don’t know, but it ain’t likely he’ll be around again to-night; and if he is he won’t get the sloop so long’s I’m alive.”
Jack slipped his shoes on and walked to the police station, where he found Sergeant Banks on night duty.
“What time will the chief be in?” he asked.
“Eight o’clock,” replied the sergeant. “What’s wrong?”
For answer, Jack placed the bar of steel on the sergeant’s desk.
“Somebody came into the cabin of my boat just now, while I was asleep, and left that when he went out.”
The sergeant frowned over the piece of steel and then eyed the boy.
“That’s a cold-chisel, I take it,” he said finally. “Where’d you say you found it?” Jack told his story briefly, ending with: “This was about half an hour ago, and you might catch the fellow if you send some of your men to look for him.”