“I noticed you turn pale when we first sighted the lights, Ballard.”

“Did you?”

“I did.”

Ballard stepped close to Sol Burton, and demanded in a determined tone

“What are you getting at?  I don’t like this cross-questioning.”

“That’s my idea, Ballard.  I don’t think you like this cross-questioning, and I think further there is a good reason for you not liking it.”

“If you’ve anything to say to me, spit it.”

“When did you first show up on the coast?”

“Who are you?  What’s your name?” retorted Ballard.

“My name is Sol Burton,”

“Ah, you are Burton; yes, I’ve heard about you!”

The detective used the words, “I’ve heard about you,” in a very meaning tone.

“You’ve heard about me?”

“Yes, I’ve heard about you,” came the response.

“What have you heard about me?”

“Oh, that’s all right; your name is Sol Burton.  Yes, yes, I’ve heard about you.”

The declaration was reiterated in a tone of more aggravating significance.

“See here, Ballard, I want you to tell me what you mean.”

“I’ve heard about you.”

“What have you heard about me?”

“It’s all right; I tell you I’ve heard about you.  Yes, yes, your name is Burton; that’s the man; I’ve heard about you.”

Our readers can readily understand that the constant repetition of the declaration in a meaning tone was, under the circumstances, very aggravating, and Sol Burton lost his temper, his eyes flashed with anger, and his face became white, as he said: 

“If you do not tell me what you mean, I’ll knock you down!”

“I reckon you won’t knock me down!”

“Will you tell me what you mean?”

“I’ll tell you I’ve heard about you, and so I have; that is enough.”

“See here, Ballard, it won’t do for you to quarrel with me!”

“I don’t care who I quarrel with!”

Burton advanced and whispered: 

“I might come ‘Quaker’ on you, and give you a bad name.”

“You can do just as you choose.  I am not asking odds of you.”

“I’ve my suspicions of you, Ballard.”

Burton spoke in a hoarse whisper; the man was excited and trembling with rage and irritation.

It is possible a tragic denouement might have followed the dialogue, had there not come just at that moment a startling interruption to the impending quarrel.

Again there came the signal cry:  “Lights ahead!” and all hands ran eagerly to the rail to study the character of the distant craft.

All was silent watchfulness and expectancy as the two boats approached nearer and nearer across the dark waters.  Suddenly there shot up high into the air a rocket and when far toward the clouds, a “bomb burst in air,” and there followed a shower of many colored lights.

At once there was great excitement on board the “Nancy.”  Sol Burton had not stopped to finish his threatening talk with our hero, but all was bustle and excitement and work.