ston Porter had not said very much about the mat ter, for it seemed to hurt him a great deal—so much, in fact, that the old sailor did not think it best to ask for the particulars. But he knew one thing, that, try his best, Dunston Porter could not learn what had become of the woman and the little one, and he was half inclined to believe that both were dead.
"Well, did he say that the child was his son?" asked Dave, with deep interest.
"No, it was some relative of his, I think. I don't believe Dunston Porter was married."
"When you came back to the coast, what did this Mr. Porter do?"
"He and Mr. Lemington stayed in the town, trying to make up their minds as to what they'd do next. I got a chance to ship, and, as they didn't seem to want me any more, I sailed away, and then I did as I've told you before."
This was practically all the information Billy Dill could give concerning Dunston Porter and the missing child, although he told much more concerning the treasure hunt, and of several fights with the natives of the interior. He said the natives were a bad lot, and he wanted no more to do with them than was absolutely necessary.
"How old should you judge this Dunston Porter to be?" asked Dave.
"Forty to forty-five years old, my lad."
