At half-past eight that fateful night Captain Jack found a pretext for
leaving his companions. Swinging out onto the road, and down past the
new Melville yard, he went on briskly to the point, well out of town,
that had been named for the meeting.
"I wonder if I'm foolish?" he thought, suddenly. "Is there any trick in
all this? But, pshaw! The Melvilles surely aren't that kind of people,
and no one else has anything against me. It's all likely enough that
Don is putting up some mean game against me down at the yard, or that
he's saying something mighty mean against me. Whatever it is, these
Italians are honest enough to feel disgusted, and they want to warn me.
Yet they don't want to have any Melville eavesdropper seeing them with
me. That's all natural enough, for these Italians have their jobs to
look out for, even if they _do_ hate the rascals who pay 'em wages."
So Captain Jack kept on his way, feeling that any suspicions of the
Italians were unfounded and therefore unnecessary.
David Pollard, after wandering through the grounds around the Farnum
home, that evening, and missing his friend, the owner, at last decided
to go to his own room and read.
Always soft-footed, Mr. Pollard made no noise until he turned the knob
of the door to his room. There was a sudden, scurrying sound inside.
Though he was a man of very nervous temperament the inventor was no
coward.
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