planks than the vigilant Legs was out of the door, and, in another moment, let out a yell of recognition.
"Shut up," urged Hardy. "Stop your fuss, or we'll both be jugged by the constable for disturbing the peace at this ungodly hour; it must be nine o'clock if it's a minute."
"How did you get here? What's happened?" the boy shot at him in a slightly lowered tone.
"Let's get in out of this wind and I'll tell you." Inside, Hardy proceeded to recount hurriedly the events since his abrupt departure. The boy listened breathlessly. Relieved to hear that his father's yacht was well on to port, his mind gave all its attention to the Blanco mystery.
"I thought that fellow looked like a slick one," declared the lad when Hardy had finished his story, "but he sure had father hoodooed."
This was an afterthought, inspired by recent events. The truth was, when the lad got his glimpse of the interpreter, he had not given him much attention one way or the other.
"And you don't know any reason the man had for making off this way?" asked Hardy.
"Not unless he's swiped something," was
