"That so?" said the skipper extending a huge brown paw. "Glad to meet you, Mr. Dale. Perhaps you can tell us what's going on ashore, and whether we're likely to hit any trouble if we run straight in to Braxa."
"I shouldn't think so," replied Jimmy in his soft and pleasing voice. "As far as I know all the able-bodied officials in Braxa have pushed off to Portriga to join in the looting. I believe there are one or two policemen left, but I don't suppose they are awake yet."
"We won't disturb 'em," said the Captain. "We'll come in nice and quiet, and let 'em have their nap out. Do you know the harbour at all, Mr. Dale?"
"Pretty fair," said Jimmy. "I've been out fishing in it a good number of times."
"Well, perhaps when we get round the Head you wouldn't mind coming up on the bridge. I've never been in here before, and there might be one or two points I'd be glad of a little information about."
"I'll bring him along," said Tony. "How soon will he be wanted?"
"Oh, there's no hurry," replied the Captain genially. "Plenty o' time for a good breakfast. We shan't be off the Head for another twenty minutes yet."
He turned to retrace his steps, and after offering Jimmy a cigarette, Tony started to lead the way below.
Molly was still sitting at the table when they entered the saloon, and at the unexpected sight Jimmy's good-natured countenance betrayed a momentary surprise and embarrassment.
"Ah, I forgot to tell you we had a friend with us," said Tony easily. "Let me introduce you. The Reverend Mr. Monk—my old pal Jimmy Dale."