“She’ll follow us,” says Mr. Topper.

“Nonsense. Nobody knows you’re here. Nobody knows anything about what we’re up to.”

“You can’t tell. If that boat follows us——”

“But it won’t,” says Mr. Browning.

I looked at Catty and Catty looked at me. That was funny kind of talk, and I wondered what we were getting into.

We turned up the sound, and, sure enough, the black yacht circled and turned and came right along in our wake, about half a mile behind us. Topper pointed. “There,” says he, “what did I tell you?”

“You’re seeing things,” says Mr. Browning. “Black boat, isn’t there?”

“Yes.”

“Turned and followed us, didn’t she?”

“She turned, but not to follow us. Why, Topper, what in the world would anybody follow us for?”

“You know that as well as I do,” said Mr. Topper.

“But nobody knows but you and I.”

“Can’t ever tell. You can’t keep anything secret in this world.”

“We’ve kept this secret. Nobody knows what you know, and nobody knows what I know.”

“But somebody may know I’ve been there, and somebody may suspect—what I know.”

“You’ve got the shivers,” says Mr. Browning.

“I don’t want to lose out now, after all the trouble I’ve been through.”

“And you won’t,” says Mr. Browning. “Forget it.”

I was interested, you can bet, but just then I heard a racket on the after deck that sounded as if we had been boarded by pirates, and when I looked back, there were Naboth and Rameses III going it like all git out. Naboth had Rameses backed against the rail and was whacking at him with a dirty rag, and Rameses was whacking back with might and main, and the way they hollered at each 

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