ing the black bag with precise care.

Enos reentered his hotel, wagging his head sententiously.

"Suthin' queer about them two fellers," he muttered to himself; "ain't
sellin' nuthin' an' they don't look as if they was on a pleasure trip.
Wa'al, it's none of my business, but if Lem makes a dicker with 'em
he'll hev ter come across to me with a commission, an' that's all I care
about."

Lem Higgins was sitting on the wharf, swinging his legs and regarding
with interest an imminent fight between two dogs of the "yaller"
variety, when the old man and his tall companion came up.

"Your name is Lem Higgins?" asked the old man sharply.

"That's what they usually say when they want me," responded Lem. "Do you
want me?"

"We want your boat."

Lem's eyes lightened. Fishing had been poor, and perhaps here was a
chance to make some easy money. He scrambled to his feet, showing
unusual animation.

"You want my boat? You want ter hire her, you mean?"

"Yes. What's your figure?"

The old man was doing all the talking now. His tall companion stood
silently by. At his side was the black bag, which he had deposited on
the ground with the same curious care that had marked all his dealings
with the mysterious article.

Lem ruminated a minute, looked seaward, ejected a small fountain of
tobacco juice, and then asked, with his head cocked on one side:

"Where might you be a-goin'?"

"Never mind that, my friend. That is none of your business."

The old man spoke sharply. Lem regarded him blankly.

"None o' my business! Then how in Sam Hill am I a-goin' ter run the
boat?"

"You are not going to run it."

"I ain't, eh?"

Lem was all "taken back," as he would have put it. He had been figuring
on a good price for the hire of the boat and a further fee for himself
as skipper. Certainly neither of the pair before him looked capable of
handling a power boat.

"No; if we take your boat we shall run it ourselves."

"You will?"

The astonished Lem gazed at the stooped figure before him. He was almost
bereft of words.

"Yes, I will; does that satisfy you?"

"Wa'al, I'll be plumb dummed," choked out the fisherman; "I should think
you'd know more about crutches an' arm-chairs than about running
gasoline boats."

"Your opinion is not of the slightest interest to me. How much do you
want for the boat?"

"Fer how long?"

"From about sunset till daylight to-morrow."

"Fer all night, you mean?"

"Yes."

"That's a quee