ople will take us by
force if we refuse any further."

If mistaking the crew of the "Pollard" for members of the United States
Navy would make matters move any more quickly, there was no need to
disabuse the mind of either of these queer men. But Jack and Hal gave
each other a queer, amused look.

The old man took to the water, without difficulty. Buoyed up by his
life preserver, he was able to hold to his satchel with one hand,
pulling himself along the slightly sagging rope with the other. His
son swam along lazily beside him, Eph, outside the rail, but holding
to it with one hand, employed his other in helping the father and son
up to the deck. When this had been accomplished, Hal threw off the
line, after which he and Jack swam back. Eph drew them up to the
platform deck.

"Go down below, and hear their account of themselves, if you want to,"
said David Pollard, leaning against the wheel. "For myself, I'm sick
of that pair already."

Jack and Hal had quite enough boyish curiosity to go below. Eph soon
followed. The father, dripping wet and still clutching his satchel with
one hand, sat on one of the long seats of the cabin, while the son,
scowling, paced back and forth.

"It seems to me that I know you," Farnum was saying, to the elder man.

"I--I am very sure you don't," replied the one addressed, uneasily.

"Don't you know who I am?" pursued the boat-builder.

"N-no; I'm very certain I don't."

"Let's see. Did you ever hear of a man named Arthur Miller, of Sebogue?"

The elder man started, paling a trifle. The younger man stopped his
walk, his face settling into a black scowl.

"No-o; I don't know Arthur Miller," replied the older man; with an
effort.

"Queer," mused Mr. Farnum. "It just came to me that you were Mr.
Miller. However, of course you know best about that."

"Thank you," nodded the older man, with an attempt at a smile. "I
started to tell you that my son started out late this afternoon, in
the sloop that lies overturned yonder, intending to put me aboard
the yacht of friends who are passing down the coast. I have most
pressing business with those friends. The business is to be finished
on the coming trip. It seems that our friends are late; still, I
know they must be on their way down the coast."

"As they haven't shown up, at least, not close enough," proposed Jacob
Farnum, "we'll put you ashore at Dunhaven, and doubtless you can catch
up with your friends in some way