“Well, they felt diff’rent ways, but Parker spoke up like a brick, and said he wouldn’t rest easy till his belongin’s was pawed over, and then the rest fell in line.  We went through everybody and every room on the place.  Found nothin’, of course.  Snow—­the detective—­said he didn’t expect to.  But I tell you there was some talkin’ goin’ on, just the same.  The minister, he hinted that he had some doubts about them dissipated gunners; and the gunners cal’lated they never see a parson yet wouldn’t bear watchin’.  As for me, I felt like a pickpocket, and, judgin’ from Jonadab’s face, he felt the same.

“The detective man swooped around quiet, bobbin’ up in unexpected places, like a porpoise, and askin’ questions once in a while.  He asked about most everybody, but about Willie, especial.  I judged Peter T. had dropped a hint to him and to Gabe.  Anyhow, the old critter give out that he wouldn’t trust a poet with the silver handles on his grandmarm’s coffin.  As for Grace, she acted dreadful nervous and worried.  Once I caught her swabbin’ her eyes, as if she’d been cryin’; but I’d never seen her and Willie together but the one time I told you of.

“Four days and nights crawled by.  No symptoms yet.  The Pinkertons was watchin’ the Gordon lawyers’ office in New York, and they reported that nothin’ like that agreement had reached there.  And our own man—­Snow—­said he’d go bail it hadn’t been smuggled off the premises sense he struck port.  So ’twas safe so far; but where was it, and who had it?

“The final football game, the one with Wapatomac, was to be played over on their grounds on the afternoon of the fifth day.  Parker, cap’n of the eleven, give out that, considerin’ everything, he didn’t know but we’d better call it off.  Old Robinson—­Sterzer, of course—­wouldn’t hear of it.

“‘Not much,’ says he.  ‘I wouldn’t chance your losin’ that game for forty papers.  You sail in and lick ’em!’ or words to that effect.

“So the eleven was to cruise across the bay in the Greased Lightnin’, Peter’s little motor launch, and the rooters was to go by train later on.  ‘Twas Parker’s idee, goin’ in the launch.  ’Twould be more quiet, less strain on the nerves of his men, and they could talk over plays and signals on the v’yage.

“So at nine o’clock in the forenoon they was ready, the whole team—­three waiters, two fishermen, one carpenter from up to Wellmouth Center, a stable hand, and Parker and three reg’lar boarders.  These last three was friends of Parker’s that he’d had come down some time afore.  He knew they could play football, he said, and they’d come to oblige him.

“The eleven gathered on the front porch, all in togs and sweaters, principally provided and paid for by Sterzer.  Cap’n Parker had the ball under his arm, and the launch was waitin’ ready at the landin’.  All the boarders—­except Grace, who was upstairs in her room—­and most of the help was standin’ round to say good luck and good-by.