"Good-by!" he said. "I have found out where I belong in this world."
And in that unheroic fashion ended something which, so he then realized,
should never have been begun. He followed Captain Wass across the
saloon.
"Better advise your buckos to be careful how they handle them
grate-bars," shouted Captain Wass. "I'm loaded, and if I'm joggled I'm
liable to explode."
They were not molested when they left the yacht. The doryman who had
brought Captain Wass rowed them to the wharf.
"Those papers--" Mayo had ventured, soon after they left the yacht's
side.
"Not one word about 'em!" yelped the old skipper. "It's my
business--entire! When the time comes right I'll show you that it's my
private business. I never allow anybody to interfere in that."
That night, after the conference at the hotel, and after Julius Marston,
growling profanity, had put his name to certain papers, drawn by careful
lawyers, Captain Wass explained why the matter of the sealed packet
was his private business. He took Marston apart from the others for the
purpose of explaining.
"I haven't said one word to Vose or his associates about this business
of the documents. They think you have come because you wanted to
straighten out a low-down trick worked by an understrapper. So this has
put you in mighty well with the Vose crowd, sir."
Marston grunted.
"It ought to be kind of pleasing to have a few men think you are on the
square," pursued Captain Wass.
"That's enough of this pillycock conversation. Hand over those papers!"
"Just one moment!" He signaled to Captain Mayo, who came to them. "I'm
going to tell Mr. Marston why those documents were my especial business
to-day, and why you couldn't control me in the matter. I may as well
explain to the two of you at once. It was my own business for this
reason: I don't know anything about any papers. I never saw any. I
never opened that package. I handed it along just as it was given to me.
That's true, on my sacred word, Mr. Marston; and I haven't any reason
for lying to you--not after you have signed those agreements."
"Come outside," urged the financier. "I want to tell you what I think of
you."
"No," said the old skipper, mildly. "And I'd lower your voice, sir, if I
were you. These men here have a pretty good idea of you just now, and I
don't want you to spoil it."