"He ain't goin' to British Honduras," burst from the third man, "and don't you think it."
"I don't think so either, Cassidy," replied the captain, "but he's the fellow we were to watch, and if he's gone we've got to put out after him."
The captain looked at his watch.
"Ten-twenty," he mused, slipping the watch back into his pocket. "How did you get here, Clackett?"
"In one of them automobiles, cap'n. Street cars was too bloomin' slow."
"You're positive there's no mistake?"
"I know Jim Sixty as well as I know you, cap'n, an' I'll take my solemn Alfred it was him standin' on the Santa Maria's deck when she steamed away from the dock."
"A mistake, you know," pursued the captain, "would put us on the wrong track and cause no end of trouble."
"There ain't no mistake—take it from me."
At this the captain became intensely alive. He whirled on Cassidy.