“Go get your stuff,” commanded Mayo. “If your business here is all your own, I don't want to spy on you.” He went back to question the captain of the tug for information in regard to the _Ethel and May_. “She's in Limeport,” reported the captain, elbows on his window-sill. “Came past her in the inner harbor this morning. You've bit off quite a chunk here, haven't you? We all thought this storm had sluiced her. Made quite a stir up and down the water-front when old Can-dage blew along and reported that she had lived it out.” “Reckon some of the panic boys are talking in another key about the prospects out here, about now, aren't they?” “Ain't so sure about that, sir,” stated the towboat man, loafing into an easier attitude. “Isn't there a feeling on shore that we are likely to make good on this proposition?” There was solicitude in Mayo's voice. He was acutely anxious. On the sentiment ashore depended Captain Candage's success. “Can't say that I hear of any!” “But the talk must--” “There ain't very much talk--not now. It's generally reckoned that this packet is a gone goose and folks are talking about something else.” “But she is here--she is upright and fast! She is--” The towboat man was not enough interested to listen to statements concerning the _Conomo's_ condition. “Look-a-here, son,” he broke in, “do you think for a minute that this thing wouldn't have been grabbed up by the real people if there had been any show of a make? I know there isn't a show!” “How do you know?” demanded Mayo, with indignation. “Haven't I been talking with the representative of one of the biggest salvaging companies on the Atlantic coast? He's there in Limeport now--was aboard my tug this morning.” “How does he know?” “Well, he does know. That's his business. And everybody in Limeport knows what he has said. He hasn't been bashful about expressing his opinion.” Mayo leaned over the rail, a baleful light in his eyes indicating what his own opinions regarding this unknown detractor were, just then. “I'd like to know who this Lord Guess-so is--barking behind honest men's backs!” “Mr. Fogg! That's him! Seems to know his business!” “Fogg?” “'Exactly!' That's his great word,” explained the other, grinning. “Some chap, too, with cigars and language!” “By the gods, now I know who chartered this tug!” he shouted. “What kind of a fool am I getting to be?” He turned and ran toward the officers' quarters. He leaped into the main passageway and explored headlong the staterooms. There was no sign of his visitor. At that moment, in the tumult of his thoughts, he had only a glimmering of an idea as to what might be the motive of the man's visit. But he was certain, now, that a wretch who had deliberately wrecked a rival steamer--if Candage's suspicions were correct--would do almost anything else for money.