hing I found when I got back was that the shanghai
business had saved my life; that but for that I would have really been
occupying that box on its way to England, instead of the poor devil who
was taken for me."

A cold tremor passed over Randolph. Captain Dornton, however, was
tolerantly smiling.

"I don't understand," said Randolph breathlessly.

Captain Dornton rose and, walking to the door, looked out into the
passage; then he shut the door carefully and returned, glancing about
the room and at the storm-washed windows. "I thought I heard some one
outside. I'm lying low just now, and only go out at night, for I don't
want this thing blown before I'm ready. Got anything to drink here?"

Randolph replied by taking a decanter of whiskey and glasses from a
cupboard. The captain filled his glass, and continued with the same
gentle but exasperating nonchalance, "Mind my smoking?"

"Not at all," said Randolph, pushing a cigar toward him. But the captain
put it aside, drew from his pocket a short black clay pipe, stuffed it
with black "Cavendish plug," which he had first chipped off in the
palm of his hand with a large clasp knife, lighted it, and took a few
meditative whiffs. Then, glancing at Randolph's papers, he said, "I'm
not keeping you from your work, lad?" and receiving a reply in the
negative, puffed at his pipe and once more settled himself comfortably
in his chair, with his dark, bearded profile toward Randolph.

"You were saying just now you didn't understand," he went on slowly,
without looking up; "so you must take your own bearings from what
I'm telling you. When I met you that night I had just arrived from
Melbourne. I had been lucky in some trading speculations I had out
there, and I had some bills with me, but no money except what I had
tucked in the skin of that portmanteau and a few papers connected with
my family at home. When a man lives the roving kind of life I have, he
learns to keep all that he cares for under his own hat, and isn't apt
to blab to friends. But it got out in some way on the voyage that I had
money, and as there was a mixed lot of 'Sydney ducks' and 'ticket of
leave men' on board, it seems they hatched a nice little plot to waylay
me on the wharf on landing, rob me, and drop me into deep water. To make
it seem less suspicious, they associated themselves with a lot of crimps
who were on the lookout for our sailors, who were going ashore that
night too. I'd my suspicions that a