“Who are you?” Johnny asked as he sat staring at this strange little man.
“Ben Zook’s my name. What might be yours?”
“Johnny Thompson.”
“What was you doin’ on my island, Johnny?”
“Looking for a man.”
“Find him?”
“I—I’m not sure. I was trying to find out whether I had found him or not when he hit me with a brick.”
“It probably was him,” said Ben thoughtfully.
For a moment the two of them sat staring away at the dark waters of the lake. Then Ben spoke:
“Well, if your gyroscope’s workin’ sufficient well to let you navigate without too much of a list to starboard, we might set sail. I’ve got some coffee, and I guess there’s still a fire. It will do you good.”