"Some of 'em do a good deal of that kind of doctoring."

The condemned liquor was already gurgling from the mouth of the demijohn
into the salt water, and neither fish nor eel came forward to get a
share of it. They were probably all feeling pretty well that night. When
the demijohn was empty and the cork replaced, it was set down again in
the "cabin;" and that was left unlocked, for there was no more danger in
it for anybody. Dab and Ham were altogether too tired to take any pains
there was no call for.

Dab's mind must have been tired, as well as his body; for he decided to
postpone until the morrow the report he had to make about the tramp. He
was strongly of the opinion that the latter had not seen him to
recognize him; and, at all events, the matter could wait.

So it came to pass that all the shore, and the road that led away from
it, and the village the road led into, were deserted and silent, an hour
or so later, when a stoutly-built "cat-boat," with her one sail lowered,
was quietly sculled up the inlet.

There were two men on board, a tall one and a shorter one; and they ran
their boat right alongside "The Swallow," as if that were the precise
thing they had come to do.

"Burgin," remarked the tall man, "wot ef we don't find any thin', arter
all this sailin' and rowin' and scullin'? Most likely he's kerried it to
the house. In course he has."

The keenly watchful eyes of Burgin had noted the arrival of that