did not move. Then, tightening his sword belt, and cocking his hat a trifle, he climbed over the starboard rail and walked along the bank of the canal a few yards until he was opposite the Annabel Lee. The great detective, on his part, also stepped ashore. They stood and faced each other in the moonlight, silently, and their followers, also in silence, gathered in the bows of the respective vessels and watched them.
Finally, Cleggett, with one hand on his hip, and standing with his feet wide apart, said very incisively:
"Sir, the Jasper B. is not a canal boat."
"Eh?" Wilton Barnstable started at the emphasis.
"The Jasper B.," pursued Cleggett, staring steadily at Wilton Barnstable, "is a schooner."
"Ah!" said the other. "Indeed?"
"A schooner," repeated Cleggett, "indeed, sir! Indeed, sir, a schooner!"
There was another silence, in which neither man would look aside; they held each other with their eyes; the nervous strain communicated itself to the crews of the two vessels. At last, however, the detective, although he did not lower his gaze, and although he strove to give his new attitude an effect
