though the drive and Silas Oakley’s conversation would never have an end; but at last both were cut short by their arrival at Rockford.
It was late in the afternoon, just the time for the Appledore boat. Billy made a breathless dash down to the landing and made it just as the gang-plank was being taken in. He hardly understood, himself, why he was in such haste to be there; he only knew that his longing for the place made it impossible to delay a minute. As the boat puffed out of the harbour he leaned back in the deck chair, content at last, since he knew that now there were no more obstacles between him and his journey’s end.
He was glad to find that it was still light when finally the little steamer lay alongside of Appledore wharf. He was rather surprised to see Johann Happs on the pier, an unfamiliar Johann dressed in best clothes a good deal too small for him, and carrying a battered old suitcase.
“Are you going away, Joe?” he asked in surprise.
“No—yes—that is, I don’t know,” was Johann’s rather startling answer. He had a worried, hunted look that troubled Billy.
