But the Professor was not going to let Captain Hervey escape without

giving him full information. Before the Yankee skipper could reach

the front door, Braddock was at his heels, gasping and blowing like a

grampus.

"Come back, come back. Tell me all."

"I reckon not," rejoined the mariner, removing Braddock's grip. "You

ain't the one to give the money. I'll go to the Don, or to Inspector

Date of Pierside."

"But Sir Frank must be innocent," insisted Braddock.

"He's got to prove it," was the dry response. "Let me go."

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"No. You must tell me on what grounds--"

"Oh, the devil take you!" said Hervey hastily, and sat down on one of

the hall chairs. "It's this way, since you won't let me skip until

I tell you. This almighty aristocrat came to Pierside on the same

afternoon as I cast anchor. While Bolton was on board, he looked in to

have a yarn of sorts."

"What about?"

"Now, how in creation should I know?" snapped the skipper. "I wasn't on

hand, as I'd enough to do with unloading cargo. But his lordship went

with Bolton to the state-room, and they talked for half an hour. When

they came out, I saw that his lordship had his hair riz, and heard him

saying things to Bolton."

"What sort of things?"

"Well, for one, he said, `You'll repent of this,' and then again, `Your

life isn't safe while you keep it.'"

"Meaning the mummy?"

"I reckon that's so, unless I am mistaken," said Hervey serenely.

"Why didn't you go to the police with this information?"

"Me? Not much. Why, I saw no way of making dollars. And then, again,

I did not think of putting things together, until I found that his

lorship--"

"Meaning Sir Frank," interpolated the Professor, frowning.

"I'm talking Queen's, or King's, or Republican lingo, I guess, and I

do mean his lorship," said the skipper dryly--"until I found that his

lorship had been in the public-house where the crime was committed."

"The Sailor's Rest? When did he go there?"

"In the evening. After his talk with Bolton, and after a row--as they

both seemed to have their hair off--he skipped over the side and went

back to his yacht, which wasn't far away. Bolton took his blamed mummy

ashore and got fixed at the Sailor's Rest. I gathered afterwards, from

the second mate of The Diver (which ain't my ship now), that his lorship

came into the hotel and had a drink. Afterwards my second mate saw him

talking to Bolton through the window."

"In the same place as the woman talked?" questioned the Professor.

"That's so, only it was later in the evening that the woman came along

to give chin-music through the window. I am bound to say," added the

captain generously, "that no one I can place my hand on saw his lorship

loafing about the hotel after dark. But what of that? He may have laid

his plans, and arranged for the corpse to be found later, in that blamed

packing case."




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