“Go on with your beauty sleep, Professor. That’s what I’m going to do. Let the two lobsters fight it out.”
“All right,” said the sleepy Tuckerman, nestling down again.
Tom turned to Ben. “So you know something about these pirates, do you?” he asked. “What were they doing here?”
“That,” said Ben, “is going to take some thinking. You see what you can find out, and I’ll see what I can. They won’t be back here to-night. And I’m too doggone sleepy to argue anyhow.”
XI—THE MAN IN GREEN
Ben, having explained to the other three campers that he had important business to attend to in Barmouth, set out in the Red Rover directly after breakfast the next morning. He paddled the canoe across the bay, landed at the town wharf, and went up the main street to Barmouth’s one good hotel. He knew the clerk, Mr. Pollock, and after saying “Good morning” very politely, he helped himself to a small folded automobile map from a pile that lay on the counter for anyone to take.
“Going motoring, Ben?” asked the clerk. “Seems to me I heard you were camping on Cotterell’s Island. How are things over there?”
“Fine,” said Ben; and in return he promptly asked a question. “Had many automobile parties for dinner the past few days?”
“Quite a lot. Yes, business is pretty good. They like our special broiled lobster dinners.”
Ben leaned on the counter, copying the familiar manner he had noted in hotel guests. “You had a party on Tuesday, didn’t you? A big red car, with a Massachusetts license, driven by a man in green-checked knickerbockers?”