“The Old Man’s looking for you,” returned the other.
“What’s he want of me?”
“Wants to see your license.”
“Well, I’ve got it, all right.”
Haley glanced, as he spoke, at his license numbers, displayed on two of the sails.
“Where is he now?”
“Down below Smith’s Island.”
“Has he boarded you?”
“Yes, looked us all over. We’re all clear.”
“Then,” continued Haley, “I’ll run alongside at sundown; where’ll you be?”