"Yes, sir."
The cruiser steamed to within half a mile of the aimless traveller, and the small boat put out. Not one of his fellows but envied the young ensign as he left the ship, steered by Timmins, a veteran bo's'n's mate, wise in all the ins and outs of sea ways. They saw him board, neatly running the small boat under the schooner's counter; they saw the foresheet eased off and the ship run up into the wind; then the foresail dropped and the wheel lashed so that she would stand so. They awaited the reappearance of Edwards and the bo's'n's mate when they had vanished below decks, and with an intensity of eagerness they followed the return of the small boat.
Billy Edwards's face as he came on deck was a study. It was alight with excitement; yet between the eyes two deep wrinkles of puzzlement quivered. Such a face the mathematician bends above his paper when some obstructive factor arises between him and his solution.
"Well, sir?" There was a hint of effort at restraint in the captain's voice.
"She's the Laughing Lass, sir. Everything ship-shape, but not a soul aboard."
"Come below, Mr. Edwards," said the captain. And they went, leaving behind them a boiling cauldron of theory and conjecture.
[III]
THE DEATH SHIP
Billy Edwards came on deck with a line of irritation right-angling the furrows between his eyes.
"Go ahead," the quarter-deck bade him, seeing him aflush with information.