"And
there would hardly be two alike in these waters."
"But what does it mean? Where did he get the cap?" asked Cora, her
voice rising with her excitement. "Tell me, Jack!"
"He says it was flung to him by some sort of an insane sailor, I take
it, on a lonely island."
"That's it, Missie," broke in the man, his tone sufficiently
respectful. "Me and my mates, as I was tellin' the boss here," and
he nodded at Jack, "started to fill our water casks, but we didn't
stay to do it arter we saw this chap. Fair a wild man, I'd call 'im,
Missie. That's what I would. Fair a wild man!"
"And he flung you this cap?"
"That's what he done, Missie. Chucked it right into the tea, Missie,
jest like it didn't cost nothin', and it was a good cap once."
It was not now, whatever it had been, for it bore evidence of long
sea immersion, and the band had been broken and cracked by the manner
in which the negro fisherman had crammed it into his pocket.
"Jack!" exclaimed Cora, in a strangely agitated voice. "We must hear
more of this story. It may be--it may be a clue!"
"That's what I'm thinking."
A little knot of idlers had gathered at seeing the negro talking to
the group of white 'young people, and Walter and Jack, exchanging
glances mutually decided that the rest of the affair might better be
concluded in seclusion. Jack gave the negro a hasty but
comprehensive glance.
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