“You’re cheeky, stranger, to walk in here after what’s just happened!”

The disguised detective laughed in a pleasant manner, and answered: 

“That’s just why I’m here; you fellows ought to be glad to see me knocking around alive, when you think how bad you would have felt had you swung me over the spar.”

“We’ve no fancy for strangers around here!”

“We’ll a man who’s been following the sea all his life should not be a stranger among you fellows.”

“Where have you sailed, stranger?”

“Better ask where I haven’t sailed, and it won’t take so long to pay out the information.”

There was an off hand, jolly sort of style about the stranger which rather pleased the gang of smugglers.

“What brought you down this way?”

I’ve been off for five years, and when I’m off on a voyage I’m clean gone; all the doors are closed behind me.  I never get any letters, and I never send any, so it’s all news to me when I come in from the sea; and I came down here to see my mother’s cousin.”

“Who is your mother’s cousin, stranger?”

“Well, you fellows are running down close into a strange craft; my relative was old Aunt Betsy, Tom Pearce’s wife.”

“She’s dead!”

“Well, so I know now; and I came near being sent after her; but all’s well that ends well, so come, all hands, and have a little throat burner with me.”

The men were all glad enough to step up and take a snifter with the stranger, who after so long a voyage they reckoned must have a pocketful of the wherewithal.

We will not go further into the details of the methods pursued by the detective to worm himself into the confidence of the smugglers; it is sufficient to say that within two hours after his appearance in their midst he had won all their hearts.

Our readers can form some idea of the wonderful skill, coolness, and daring of the detective, who within twenty-four hours walked under a new disguise right into the midst of a gang of desperate men, who, had they recognized him as he was known but a few hours previously, would have killed him as they would have slain a venomous serpent.

A number of the men fell into a regular carouse with the detective; among them was Ike Denman, the captain of the yacht “Nancy.”  Indeed, the men got into a game of cards, and Ballard lost like a little man and stood his ill luck with such marvelous good nature, the men fell right to him.

When it was well into the morning, the game broke up, and Denman invited the detective to go aboard the yacht and bunk for the night.

Our hero gladly accepted the invitation; and when once aboard, as it was a pleasant morning, the two even lay out upon the deck, and Denman became quite confidential.  He let the detective into the secret of the real business of the crew of the yacht, and told him that daily they were expecting a schooner from the West Indies with a big cargo for them.