rrack,
though he eyed it as he went down the slope between it and the sea.
He had not yet begun to think out a plan of action. He wanted Dan'l
disposed of without showing his hand in the business. As it was, the girl
(and he cursed her) had guessed him to blame for the loss of the lugger.
Was it more than a guess of hers? He couldn't say. He had told her at
parting that he was walking to St. Ives on business. On a sudden thought
he halted in the main street and turned to walk up towards Tregenna, the
great house overlooking the town. Its owner, Squire Stephens, was an old
client of his.

Squire Stephens was at home, and Phoby Geen sat closeted with him for an
hour and more. Nothing was talked of save business, and when the Squire
mentioned Dan'l Leggo and the price on his head, Phoby waved a hand
mute-like, as much as to beg off being questioned.

Twilight was falling as he took the road back to Porthleah; and Tummels,
who had been waiting behind a hedge above the town, dogged him home
through the dusk and through the dark.

Phoby's call on the Squire had begun and ended with business.
The _Nonesuch_ had made another trip to Roscoff, and he had one hundred
and fifty pounds' worth of white cognac to dispose of, all sunk--for Mr.
Pennefather had put on a sudden activity--off Old Lizard Head. He had
reason to believe that the Preventive men were watching his usual routes
inland. Since the accident to Dan'l he had felt, in his cunning way,
a new watchfulness in the air.

The day after his journey to St. Ives, the _Nonesuch_ sailed again for
Roscoff. At the last moment he decided not to command her this trip; but
turned the business over to his mate, Seth Rogers--a very dependable man,
though not clever at all. So away she went, leaving the Cove empty but
for himself only and Bessie Bussow and Tummels, that lived in a freehold
cottage on his savings and didn't draw a regular wage, but only took a
hand in a run when he chose. Moreover, Tummels had never sailed for years
past but in the _Black Joke_, and the _Black Joke_ was taken and her crew
in prison or in hiding.

Phoby would lief enough have seen Tummels' back. For the job he meditated
the man was not only worse than useless, but might even spy on him and
carry warning. His plan was to get the sunk crop of brandy round to St.
Ives, deliver it to Squire Stephens, and, at the same time, under cover of
the business, make sure of Dan'l's being at Stack's F