Page:Dick Hamilton's Steam Yacht.djvu/79



by Widdy, the wealthy lad groped his way along a rather dark passage. He expected every minute to be greeted by Mr. Blake, or to hear the lawyer's voice bidding him welcome. Dick was a little surprised that the attorney had not been out on deck, for the atmosphere below was anything but refreshing, indicating that the Princess was none too well ventilated.

"This way, if you please," spoke a voice, and Dick had a glimpse of a big man, attired in a sailor's suit, holding open a cabin door for him. The lad, suspecting nothing, was about to enter, but at that moment there came from Widdy, the old salt who was directly behind him, a snarl not unlike that of the bulldog Grit, at a sight of Uncle Ezra Larabee.

"Oh, ho! It's you, my fine swab, is it?" cried Widdy, pushing his way past Dick, and confronting the big sailor. "It's you, is it, an' up to some of your knavish tricks, I'll be bound! Let me get hold of you, Jake Shrouder, and I'll pay back some of the scores I owe you! Split my lee