"Nope."
"Gracious, but this is a dead place," laughed Jack. "Must be a lot of shacks for rent around here?"
"There was one place," stated the storekeeper, "but a dude feller hired it last week. Said some sort o' fishing club'd be down this way to fish, once in a while. That kinder minds me," went on the storekeeper. "I guess maybe some o' that crowd are down, 'cause I saw a light up there at the house, jest come dark."
"If there's a fishing club down here, that ought to make business good for you," suggested Captain Jack.
"Dunno. They can start tradin' as soon as they like. I'm ready."
"Which house has the fishing club hired?" was Jack's next question.
"Why, I guess you can make it out from the door," replied the storekeeper, coming out from behind the counter and going to the front of his establishment. "There, if yer eyes are good, you can jest make out a building over there on the point. See it? Well, there's a little boat wharf in front that ye can't see until you get closer."
Jack had found out just what he wanted to know. He had the very information for which he had been fishing, nor did he believe the storekeeper suspected him of undue curiosity.
"Well, I've got to be moving along, now I'm fed," announced young Benson.
"The yacht I belong to is some distance from here. Good night!"
Nor did Captain Jack linger in the village. Had anyone stood still in that street and stared after Benson, he would have seen the boy vanish in the darkness.