Presently they seemed to have reached an agreement. The spokesman walked back to Jim and came directly to the point.
"What'll you take to set the crowd of us over on the mainland near Owl's Head before daylight?"
"No number of dollars you can name. I don't care to risk my boat and twenty-five or thirty lives knocking round the Penobscot Bay ledges on a night like this. But I'll be glad to take you all over to Matinicus to-morrow for nothing."
"That won't do. We've got to reach the mainland to-night. I'll give you fifty dollars. Come, now!"
"Seventy-five! No? A hundred, then! What d'you say?"
"No use!" replied Jim. "I told you so at first."
The stranger eyed him a moment, then stepped aside to parley again with the others. The colloquy was even more spirited than before. Captain Sykes swung his arms like a crazy man. He pointed to the sky, then to the sea, then to the voiceless score, huddled together, sheep-like, on the beach. Back came the speaker again, a nervous decision in his manner.
"If you won't set us over yourself, what'll you sell that sloop for? Give you two hundred dollars!"
Reading refusal in the lad's face, he raised the bid before Jim had time to open his lips.
"Three hundred! We've some passengers who must get to a certain place at a particular time, and they can't do it unless we can land 'em before daylight to-morrow. Say four hundred!"
"Wouldn't you take five hundred for her?"
Jim's jaws came together. Back in his brain was forming a suspicion of these fishermen who raised their bid so glibly. Why were they so eager to reach the mainland that night, and why did the twenty have no voice in the discussion? He scrutinized them searchingly.
"What are you staring at?" demanded the man, angrily.
Jim did not reply. Percy passed by on his way to the cabin. He had been using his eyes to good advantage. He nudged Jim.
"Those fellows are Chinamen," he whispered. "I've seen too many of 'em to be mistaken."
His words crystallized Jim's suspicions into certainty. The whole thing was plain now. The crew of the _Clementine Briggs_ (if, indeed, that was her name) were no fishermen, but smugglers of Chinese!
He remembered a recent magazine article on the breaking of the immigration laws. Chinamen would cross the Pacific to Vancouver, paying the Dominion head-tax, and thus gaining admission into Canada. A society, organized for the purpose, would take them in charge, teach them a few ordinary English phrases, transport them to New Brunswick, and slip them aboard some fast schooner. The captain of this vessel would receive three hundred dollars a head for landing his passengers safely here and there at lonely points on the New England coast, whence they could make their way undetected to their friends in the large cities. Thus were the exclusion laws of the United States set at naught.