“Yes, I understand.”
“You 'll hardly find it necessary to tell Mrs. Fargo what I have told you.”
“No, I suppose not. Though it would be perfectly safe with her.”
“If you don't mind, I'd rather not.”
“Very well.”
The Captain went into the house; and Beveridge walked away. The Merry Anne was at the moment coming slowly in toward the north side of the pier.
When he had nearly reached the pier, Beveridge turned and stood frowning and snapping his fingers. A glance told him that Wilson had just hauled out a fine perch and was baiting his hook for another. He turned toward the house, and found that the Captain was approaching him.
“Well,” said Beveridge, “will she go?”
“I haven't said anything yet. I thought I'd turn it over in my mind. Aren't you pretty young for this work, Mr. Beveridge?”
“Not so very. Do as you like about it. I have said all I can.”