“Why, I'll tell you what I'll do,” Benson went on, feeling in one of his pockets. “Here's a dollar. That'll buy you a bed and a breakfast at the hotel up the street. If you want to get aboard with us in time, you'd better show up by eight in the morning.”
“But—”
“That's really all I can do,” Jack Benson hastily assured the fellow. “I'm not the owner of the boat, and I can't take any liberties. Oh, wait just a moment. I'll see if there's [pg 050] any chance of Mr. Farnum coming back to-night.”
Jack knew well enough that there wasn't any chance of Mr. Farnum returning, unless possibly at a very late hour with the naval officers, but the boy had seen the night watchman peering out through the gateway.
Retracing his steps, Jack drew the night watchman inside, whispering:
“Just a pointer for you. You've seen that man on the street with us? He has a letter from Mr. Pollard to Mr. Farnum, but I wouldn't let him in the yard to-night, unless Mr. Farnum appears and gives the order.”
“I understand,” said the night watchman, nodding.
“That's all, then, and thank you.”
Jack Benson hastily rejoined the others on the sidewalk.
“I don't believe, Mr. Truax, it will be worth your while to come here earlier than eight in the morning. Better go to the hotel and tie up to a good sleep. Good night.”