The man who suddenly entered in the midst of the speech of
one-eyed Jake was Ballard, the man whom an hour or two
previously that very gang of men had set to hang.
The crew of the "Nancy" gazed at the new-comer in astonishment,
and a wicked gleam shone in the single eye of Jake.
"You're cheeky, stranger, to walk in here after what's just
happened!"
The disguised detective laughed in a pleasant manner, and
answered:
"That's just why I'm here; you fellows ought to be glad to see
me knocking around alive, when you think how bad you would
have felt had you swung me over the spar."
"We've no fancy for strangers around here!"
"We'll a man who's been following the sea all his life should
not be a stranger among you fellows."
"Where have you sailed, stranger?"
"Better ask where I haven't sailed, and it won't take so long
to pay out the information."
There was an off hand, jolly sort of style about the stranger
which rather pleased the gang of smugglers.
"What brought you down this way?"
"I've been off for five years, and when I'm off on a voyage I'm
clean gone; all the doors are closed behind me. I never get
any letters, and I never send any, so it's all news to me when
I come in from the sea; and I came down here to see my
mother's cousin."
"Who is your mother's cousin, stranger?"
"Well, you fellows are running down close into a strange
craft; my relative was old Aunt Betsy, Tom Pearce's wife."
"She's dead!"
"Well, so I know now; and I came near being sent after her;
but all's well that ends well, so come, all hands, and have a
little throat burner with me."
The men were all glad enough to step up and take a snifter
with the stranger, who after so long a voyage they reckoned
must have a pocketful of the wherewithal.
We will not go further into the details of the methods pursued
by the detective to worm himself into the confidence of the
smugglers; it is sufficient to say that within two hours after
his appearance in their midst he had won all their hearts.
Our readers can form some idea of the wonderful skill,
coolness, and daring of the detective, who within twenty-four
hours walked under a new disguise right into the midst of a
gang of desperate men, who, had they recognized him as he was
known but a few hours previously, would have killed him as
they would have slain a venomous serpent.
A number of the men fell into a regular carouse with the
detective; among them was Ike Denman, the captain of the yacht
"Nancy." Indeed, the men got into a game of cards, and
Ballard lost like a little man and stood his ill luck with
such marvelous good nature, the men fell right to him.
When it was well into the morning, the game broke up, and
Denman invited the detective to go aboard the yacht and bunk
for the night.
Our hero gladly accepted the invitation; and when once aboard,
as it was a pleasant morning, the two even lay out upon the
deck, and Denman became quite confidential. He let the
detective into the secret of the real business of the crew of
the yacht, and told him that daily they were expecting a
schooner from the West Indies with a big cargo for them.
"How do you run it ashore?" asked the detective, innocently.
"Make a trip with us and we'll show you how the thing is done;
the fact is I'm a man or two short, and if you want to take a
rake in with us you're welcome."
"That's just the ticket for me!" answered Spencer Vance.
Our readers must understand that the detective had been
wonderfully diplomatic and cute to so readily, worm himself
into the confidence of Ike Denman.
The men at length went to sleep and slept far into the
morning. Ike Denman was the first to awake, seemingly, but in
reality the detective had been on the alert all the time.
The master of the "Nancy" was quite a different man in the
morning when burning under the after-effects of liquor than he
was when in the full fever of a jolly spell. As he opened his
eyes and saw our hero stretched upon the deck, he gave him a
lunge in the ribs, and as Vance opened his eyes, Denman
exclaimed:
"Hello! what are you snoozing there for, old man?"
The detective was on his feet in a moment.
"Who are you, and what are you doing here?"
Denman appeared to have forgotten who our hero was, but in
reality he was only pretending to forget.
Denman was a good sailor, and a very cunning man; but at heart
he was a very ugly and desperate fellow, and not at all
distinguished by any of the generous traits usually
characteristic of jolly tars.
"What's the matter, captain?"
"What's the matter? I'm asking you who you are, and what you
are doing here?"
The detective came a little nearer, and assumed a surprised
air.
"Don't stand there, making sober faces. Who are you, and what
are you doing here?"
Denman was conscious that he was given to talking too much
when in his cups, and he was leading the new hand on to betray
just how much had been revealed to him.
"You shipped me last night, captain."
"I shipped you last night?"
"Yes; but if you don't want me as one of your crew, I'm
willing."
"Who are you, anyhow?"
"My name is Ballard. I told you who I was last night."
"What did you tell me?"
"See here, captain, it ain't necessary to go over all that
passed between us last night. If you don't wart to take me on
with you, say so, and I'll get ashore."
Denman laughed in a merry manner, and said:
"I reckon it's all right."
"I can prove it's all right, captain."
"How so?"
Ballard ran his eye over the yacht's rigging, and said:
"Would you take any suggestions from a man who had plenty of
experience in crafts of this sort?"
"I would; yes."
The detective who really was a splendid seaman, made some very
pertinent and useful suggestions, and Denman was just sailor
enough to appreciate that he had secured a useful man; and he
said:
"It's all right. Consider yourself shipped. You're just the
man I want; and we'll get to work at once on your
alterations."
The suggestions were such as could easily be carried out by
the master and his crew, and soon all hands were busy.
It had been decided that the yacht would go to sea that night,
and our hero was booked for the trip.
Spencer Vance had played his cards well. He improved every
moment in making himself popular with the crew, and late in
the afternoon, when all hands went ashore, he was the hero of
the gang. In an offhand manner the detective remarked, as the
boat was run on the beach:
"I'll see you later, boys; I'm going over for a bit to look
after Tom Pearce."