"Leave that to me. I'm through with him."
"All right. Let's hunt up the governor." Together they went to the office in search of Wayne Wayland.
A half-hour later, when Clyde rejoined Miss Berry, she noticed that he seemed ill at ease, gazing down the bay with a worried, speculative look in his colorless eyes.
Boyd Emerson roused from his death-like slumber late in the afternoon, still worn from his long strain and aching in every muscle. He was in wretched plight physically, but his heart was aglow with gladness. Big George was still at the trap, and the unceasing rumble from across the way told him that the fish were still coming in. As he was finishing his breakfast, a watchman appeared in the doorway.
"There's a launch at the dock with some people from above," he announced. "I stopped them, according to orders, but they want to see you."
"Show them to the office." Boyd rose and went into the other building, where, a moment later, he was confronted by Wayne Wayland and Willis Marsh. The old man nodded to him shortly. Marsh began:
"We heard about your good-fortune. Mr. Wayland has come to look over your plant."
"It is not for sale."
"How many fish are you getting?"
"That is my business." He turned to Mr. Wayland. "I hardly expected to see you here. Haven't you insulted me enough?"