I argued that if Amos had wanted me to have a passport he
would have provided one, so I needn't bother my head about that.
But it was my business to keep alongside Gresson, and if the boat
stayed a week in some port and he went off ashore, I must follow
him. Having no passport I would have to be always dodging
trouble, which would handicap my movements and in all likelihood
make me more conspicuous than I wanted. I guessed that Amos
had denied me the passport for the very reason that he wanted
Gresson to think me harmless. The area of danger would, therefore,
be the passport country, somewhere north of Fort William.

But to follow Gresson I must run risks and enter that country.
His suspicions, if he had any, would be lulled if I left the boat at
Oban, but it was up to me to follow overland to the north and hit
the place where the _Tobermory made a long stay. The confounded
tub had no plans; she wandered about the West Highlands looking
for sheep and things; and the captain himself could give me no
time-table of her voyage. It was incredible that Gresson should take
all this trouble if he did not know that at some place - and the right
place - he would have time to get a spell ashore. But I could
scarcely ask Gresson for that information, though I determined to
cast a wary fly over him. I knew roughly the _Tobermory's course -
through the Sound of Islay to Colonsay; then up the east side of
Mull to Oban; then through the Sound of Mull to the islands with
names like cocktails, Rum and Eigg and Coll; then to Skye; and
then for the Outer Hebrides. I thought the last would be the place,
and it seemed madness to leave the boat, for the Lord knew how
I should get across the Minch. This consideration upset all my
plans again, and I fell into a troubled sleep without coming to
any conclusion.