“I found it in my bag this morning,” explained Tom. “I thought that it belonged to Jo, and that he had dropped it in by mistake.”
“I suspect that is just what I did in an absent-minded spell this morning,” said the professor. “The joke is on me, boys. Perhaps it is a lucky thing that I did it, for I think now, seeing this slit in my bag that the best thing I can do is to have you take care of it for me.”
“Don’t you think you had better keep it?” protested Jim.
“Not after this experience,” replied the professor, holding up the cut bag. “Besides, I think it will be decidedly safer with you.”
“Very well, then,” replied Jo. “We will do our best to take care of it.”
“I know that,” said the professor.
Jo and Tom spent the morning going over the yacht getting acquainted with its equipment and with the crew. The latter were mostly Hawaiians with one Irishman, an Englishman and the Mexican steward. Juarez was busy down in the engine room with Berwick, and Jim and the professor were in consultation in the cabin over their plans to outwit Broome.
“The Marjorie of Liverpool,” remarked Tom. The speaker was standing on the after deck studying the vessels in the harbor. He read the name he spoke through a pair of binoculars. It was a small steamship anchored not far from the Storm King. They had passed it early in the morning on their way to the yacht, but he had not noticed it particularly until now.
“I wonder where she came from, and where she is going?” went on Tom.