continuous thought.

"Yes."

"Are you positive?"

"Yes."

"Does anybody else know?"

Royson felt that the Baron did not expect this question, but the answer
came promptly:

"Mr. Fenshawe knows, and the two ladies who accompany him have a
species of general knowledge."

"If I took c'rect bearin's, accordin' to your yarn the cargo is planted
some distance from the coast?"

"About forty miles."

"An', while some of us goes after it, the yacht will stand off, an' on,
waitin' orders, an' mebbe runnin' to Perim or Aden for letters."

"You have grasped the situation, exactly, Captain Stump."

The skipper shifted his cigar from one corner of his mouth to another.

"Sink me," he growled, "I thought it couldn't be gun-runnin' when there
was wimmin mixed up in it. Didn't I say so, Tagg?"