“As far as you went in your thinking, you are most certainly right,” he said. “I use this boat to transport counterfeit money which I make on my island. I take it to a waiting freighter that meets me five miles off shore—well beyond the legal jurisdiction of the United States government, in international waters. The freighter takes my pretty counterfeit money and disposes of it in foreign markets, where I get a good price for it, and where not every bright and nosy boy is out to make a nuisance of himself.”
Then, once again, Jones smiled his peculiar and unpleasant smile. “I find the foreign markets most useful for disposing of items which are too difficult to get rid of here. I expect that you will not be much harder to dispose of than this money, when you are beyond the limits of U.S. waters!”
Sandy looked at Jerry in silence, desperately hoping his friend would come up with some flash of inspiration—some idea—which would help them to get out of this situation. But Jerry was no help. For that matter, Sandy reflected, he was not much help himself. But as long as he kept “Jones” talking, he’d get some more information and meanwhile, perhaps, he or Jerry might think of something.
“There’s only one thing that has me puzzled in all this,” Sandy said therefore. “Why did you leave this boat full of money floating around outside of the cove?”
Jones laughed. “There you have the full essence of our little comedy of errors,” he said. “Last night’s storm probably tore more than one hundred boats loose from their anchorages and moorings. Yours, I assure you, wasn’t the only one that drifted a good distance, and neither was mine!”
“Yours?” Jerry gasped. “You mean that our boat did drift over this way? And that you—?”
“I think you understand,” Jones replied. “But it wasn’t I. It was these stupid fools who work for me. They had loaded the money on board the boat last night before the storm. Then, when it blew up, we knew that it was impossible to sail to the freighter until the storm had passed. They failed to take the money out of the boat for the night, trusting to luck that nothing would go wrong. But something did go wrong! My boat broke loose and floated out around the point to where it is now. Your boat drifted up to the entrance of my cove. When they came out this morning, my assistants saw your boat, and did not see mine.”
Jones laughed a short, sharp laugh. “They actually sailed your sloop five miles out to the freighter! Of course they discovered their mistake when they opened the money locker and found it full of canned food!”
He looked at the sailors with disgust, then continued. “When they realized their error, they promptly sailed back here, but by that time you had found my boat and assumed it to be yours. When they told me their story, I guessed at once what had happened and went to correct the mistake before you found out about our little business. If you had only come a half hour later, you would have found your own boat and sailed it off in perfect safety. Unfortunately for you, you were just a little too soon.”
“As long as you’re telling us the whole story,” Jerry said, “will you answer a question for me? I don’t understand why you bother with sailboats, when a power boat could do the job so much faster.”