and maybe
the key to 'em will fit yours," he went on, adding: "What's become av
Mose?"

Again Griswold told the exact truth.

"The last I saw of him he was making a run for it up the levee, with one
of the plain-clothes men chasing him."

M'Grath found his handcuffs and tried the key in those upon Griswold's
wrists. It fitted.

"Now ye're fut- and hand-loose, I'll say to ye what I wouldn't say to a
cripple. If ye've been telling me the truth, 'tis only the half av it.
What have ye been doing, Gavitt?"

Griswold smiled. "Toting cargo on the _Belle Julie_, since you've known
me. You'd swear to that, wouldn't you?"

"But before that?"

"Loafing around New Orleans for a month or two."

The big mate pushed him to a seat on the after berth and sat down
opposite.

"Because ye fished me out o' the river whin ye had good cause to lave me
be, I'll tell ye a thing or two for the good av yer soul. Thing number
wan is that ye're not Gavitt; ye're no more like him than I am. Let that
go, an' come to thing number two; ye've been up to some deviltry. How do
I know? Because, at the last landing below this a little man comes
aboard an' spots you. Is that all? It is not. Whin the _Belle Julie_
swings in, he's the first man off, making a clane jump av a good tin
feet from the engine-room guards. I saw 'im."

Griswold nodded and said, "I was wondering how they came to place me so
easily. This fellow knew I would be one of the two to carry out the
spring line?"

"He did, f'r I told him."

"Meaning to get me pulled?"

"Meaning nothing but wanting to be rid av the bothering little man. He
said he was a friend av yours, and didn't care to be speaking to ye
while ye was mixing with the naygurs. But that's all over and gone.
What'll ye be doing next?"

Griswold took a leaf out of the past. Safety in a former peril had grown
out of a breakfast deliberately eaten in a cafe next door to the Bayou
State Security.

"What would I do but finish my job on the _Julie_?" he said, pushing the
theory to its logical conclusion.

The mate shook his head. "Ye needn't do that; the cops might be coming
down here and running you in again. How much pay have ye drawn?"

"Not any."

M'Grath took a greasy wallet from his pocket and counted out a
deck-hand's wages for the trip.

"Take this, and I'll be getting it back from the clerk. It might not be
good f'r ye to show up at the office. Where's yer hat?"

"It was lost in the shuffle out yon