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But it was plain enough to me that Griffin Leeds could not have existed in his hiding-place for nearly two weeks, or even one, without the connivance of some person on board. Of course that person was Cornwood. Who was the stranger that interfered to save me? I concluded he was some hunter, who had taken a hand in the affair simply from the love of fair play.
"Eavesdropping; listening to conversation not intended for him, which was going on in the captain's room," replied the mate, rather warmly. "It is very strange to me, for I have known the boy for years, and I never heard any of his employers find fault with him before," added Cornwood. "I don't believe there is a better behaved boy in the State than Griffin Leeds.
I noticed that Cornwood came up from the forecastle over the top of the pilot-house, which I had forbidden any one on board to do, at the beginning of the voyage, to prevent injury to the paint. I concluded that Griffin had come up in the same way. The occasion of the strife was plain enough to me as soon as I discovered who were engaged in it.
While I was reasonably certain in regard to such portions of the chain of the story as I had been compelled to supply, I could not prove all I believed. On the other hand, Cornwood was an exceedingly valuable person to me as guide and pilot, and I was unwilling to dispense with his services until he showed the cloven foot too palpably to be retained.
"This spring is said to be the Fountain of Youth, which Ponce de Leon looked after," said Cornwood, as our passengers gathered on deck in front of the pilot-house, after breakfast. "Out in the middle of this pool, the water is eighty feet deep."
"I am sorry to hear that Colonel Estwell's house has been burned," said Cornwood, as I came on deck. "It was doing a good business, and the fire will be a heavy blow to the Colonel. I suppose you heard nothing bad about me." "Nothing very bad. I engage you at the terms you named for the time the steam-yacht remains in Florida," I added.
I had three more spoon-hooks, with the necessary lines, two of which I had bought on the northern shore of Lake Superior. It was odd to think of fishing with them here in Florida. I sent Cornwood to the pilot-house, and told Moses to give the steamer about four knots an hour, for this was the way I used to do on Lakes Huron and Superior.
We towed the Sylvania out into deep water, anchored her, and left her in charge of Ben Bowman and Dyer Perkins, for one engineer and one fireman were sufficient for the trip: Cornwood took the wheel, and we ran into the Ocklawaha.
But he was good-natured about it, and when the boy had got up the anchor, Cornwood rang the bell to start the engine. Everything worked as regularly as though the little yacht had been a steamer of a thousand tons. The pilot ran the boat down the river about a mile below Magnolia, and then stood into an inlet, at the head of which we found the stream.
"Griffin will find a chance to tell Cornwood that you have been looking up the lodger, and Cornwood will carry it to Boomsby," I repeated. "Just so. Now, we must fix things a little. Don't let Cornwood go on shore to-night." "How can I keep him? He is hardly like the other members of the ship's company." "You can need him for some purpose or other," suggested the mate, with a smile.
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