"
Condy made a pretence of rising to get a match in a ribbed,
truncated cone of china that stood upon an adjacent table, and
Blix held her breath as he glanced down into the depths of the
hat. He resumed his seat.
"Only initials," he breathed--"W. J. A. It might be Jack, that
J., and it might be Joe, or Jeremiah, or Joshua; and even if he
was a captain he might not use the title. We're no better off
than we were before."
"And K. D. B. may come at any moment. Maybe she has come already
and looked through the windows, and saw TWO men with marguerites
and went away. She'd be just that timid. What can we do?"
"Wait a minute, look here," murmured Condy. "I've an idea. I'LL
find out which the captain is. You see that picture, that chromo,
on the wall opposite?"
Blix looked as he indicated. The picture was a gorgeously colored
lithograph of a pilot-boat, schooner-rigged, all sails set,
dashing bravely through seas of emerald green color.
"You mean that schooner?" asked Blix.
"That schooner, exactly. Now, listen. You ask me in a loud voice
what kind of a boat that is; and when I answer, you keep your eye
on the two men."
"Why, what are you going to do?"
"You'll see. Try it now; we've no time to lose."
Blix shifted in her seat and cleared her throat. Then:
"What a pretty boat that is up there, that picture on the wall.
See over there, on the wall opposite? Do you notice it? Isn't she
pretty? Condy, tell me what kind of a boat is that?"
Condy turned about in his place with great deliberation, fixed the
picture with a judicial eye, and announced decisively:
"That?--why, that's a BARKENTINE.
Pages:
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110