"S'pose 'twas a-comin' to see you that brought him down this way," Elisha volunteered. "Somehow I don't recall meetin' him before."
"He hasn't been here before," was the measured response.
"Oh, so he's new to Wilton waters, eh? That prob'ly accounts for his runnin' aground. I was certain I'd 'a' remembered his face had I seen it. I'm kinder good at faces," declared the sheriff. "Fine lookin' chap. Has quite an air to him. Nothin' cheap 'bout his clothes, neither. They was A1 quality clear through to his skin. Silk, with monograms on 'em. Must be a man of means."
Silence greeted the observation.
"Likely he is—havin' a power-boat an' leisure to cruise round in her," persisted the undaunted Elisha.
"I really couldn't say."
"Well, apparently he ain't one that boasts of his possessions, an' that's to his credit," interposed Jared Stetson good-humoredly.
Elisha's interest in the stranger was not, however, to be so easily diverted.
"Seen the boat?" he inquired.
"No."