ow everything that an
officer of the law ought to know, and besides which you know everything
that a thief has to know. So you're going to be elected Sheriff of
Trigger Island.' That's what A. A. says to me, and, as usual, he's dead
right. Why, ma'am, there ain't a thief in the universe that can fool me.
I don't have to have any evidence,--not a grain of it. All I got to do
is to just ask 'em why they done it. But what I dropped in to see you
about, Miss Ruth, is--Say, you ain't by any chance expecting A. A. to
drop in, are you? I wouldn't have him ketch me here for--"

"I am not expecting Mr. Percival, Soapy," she said, her gaze fixed
expectantly on the man's face.

"Well, then," said he, "I got a little story to tell you. It's the
gospel truth. Just try to forget that I used to be a crook and that
in ordinary times I am one of the most gosh-awful liars on earth. But
there's absolutely no pleasure in lying nowadays, and as for working at
my regular trade, Mrs. Spofford, you needn't be the least bit nervous.
It ain't necessary for you to set on that trunk. Take this chair,
please. Now, you remember some time back that A. A. and your friend
Landover had a mix-up in the last named gentleman's stateroom, and you
also must remember that Mr. Landover told you about it and that Mr.
Percival never told you anything about it. Well, I was a witness to
that fracas. I just happened to be walking along the deck when something
caught my eye and I went up close to see what it was. You'd never guess
what it was. After looking at it very carefully I discovered it was a
port-hole."

Forsaking his whimsical manner, he related tersely in as few words as
possible the story of the encounter.

"Now, it's my guess that Mr. Abel Landover didn't speak the whole truth
and nothing but the truth when he furnished you with his version of the
affair. Am I right, or am I wrong?" he asked, in conclusion.

"I prefer to believe Mr. Landover's story," said Mrs. Spofford stiffly.
"Will you be good enough to go now, Mr. Shay?"

"Sure," said "Soapy," rising. "I'm not asking anybody to take my word
against his. I'm just telling you, that's all. Good afternoon, ladies."

"It was not Mr. Percival who fired the shot? You are sure of that,
Soapy?" Ruth was standing now. Her eyes were very dark and tempestuous.

"Sure as my right name ain't Soapy Shay," returned the witness, holding
up his right hand.

"Ruth, it isn't possible that you place any credenc