will be displayed today, when the good folk arrive from Lanesport.  We have the recommendation, as you must have seen, of two of the most respectable men in the town,—­their names alone are proof of the high moral plane on which our Company is conducted.  I say this to you because you do not know me, nor the Professor, and you are young, and thoughtless, and might jump to wrong conclusions.  That would pain me very much, James.  Very much.  You will see, after the good folk arrive, and after you have heard Mr. Bowditch and Deacon Chick, that everything is as open as the day.”

In spite of Mr. Snider’s manner, in spite of his oily voice, I was nearer believing in him then, than at any time while I was on the island.  After all, I had heard of inventions which must be kept secret.  Moreover, there may have seemed something suspicious about the way in which I had come.  I had bungled in giving that false name, and made them think that I was simply prying into their affairs.  All that I wished now was to see if Captain Bannister were on the steamboat, or if I could get news of him or the “Hoppergrass,” and I told this to Mr. Snider.

“Very well, then,” said he, “it will be all right, now we have a clear understanding.  And I would like you to keep near me while the people are here.  You may be able to help, and thereby you can work off some of your debt to us for the two meals you have had at our expense.  Though we would not charge you much for them,—­about fifty cents for the supper, and thirty-five—­or forty—­for the breakfast, I think.  Now, we will go down to the wharf.”

The steamboat was less than quarter of a mile distant.  It gave three long, shrill toots of its whistle, and came straight for us.  It was a small boat, covered with flags and streamers.  A brass band, in red coats, sat in the bow playing “Sweet Marie.”  As the boat came nearer I was surprised to see how few people, aside from the band, were on it.  I had expected to see a big crowd,—­a picnic gathering.  Instead, there were only about two dozen people.  Most of them were men, but a few had brought their wives—­nice looking old ladies—­with them.

Mr. Snider stood up on a high place, took off his black felt hat, with a great flourish, and put on his ghastly smile.  “Welcome!” he shouted, “welcome to Rogers’s Island!”

There was a big man with a frock coat and top hat standing near the band.  He must have weighed two hundred and fifty pounds, and all his movements were slow and majestic.  He took off his hat, faced toward the people who were sitting about the deck on camp-stools, and shouted in a deep but tremendous voice: 

“Three cheers for Brother Snider!”

Then, counting “One, two, three!” and waving his tall hat in slow circles, he gave the three cheers all by himself.  No one else opened his mouth.

The steamboat came alongside the wharf, was made fast, and a gang-plank run out.  The big man came ashore, together with another who had a gray beard,—­Deacon Chick, as I found out later.  They shook hands with Mr. Snider very warmly, and introduced him to some of the other people as they stepped off the gang-plank.