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 queer time to go out." "Possibly; but we choose to do it. If you don't want to let your boat, say so, and have done with it. We'll find another." "Oh, as far as thet's consarned, ef you kin run her I don't mind ef you go out any old time. But I'd like ter see ef you kin, afore we go any further." "Where is she?" "Right out there. I'll row you out to her. Come on down this ladder; easy, now. You're pretty old for this sort of work." But, despite the old man's apparent decrepitude, he stepped down the steep and rather rickety ladder, at the foot of which lay a dory, with the agility of a youth. His companion declared that he would remain on the dock. Guessing that he didn't want to leave the bag, of which he seemed so careful, Lem hailed him. "Come on and bring your grip, ef ye scared o' leavin' it," he said. But the other shook his head, and Lem pulled out toward his launch with only the old man as passenger. The launch was a black, rakish-looking craft, and once on board the old man expressed approval of the powerful, two-cylindered engine with which she was equipped. "Say, you do know suthin' about ingines, don't yer?" admired Lem, after a few sharp questions had shown him that the queer old man really knew what he was talking about.