"Customs men," he explained. "They wanted to apologize for bothering Morton the other day. They've got their man."
"Who?"
"Fellow that's been smuggling diamonds. Got him with the goods only an hour ago. A chap named Schmidt."
Rosalind and Billy exchanged swift looks.
"Why, that's the man they thought was a spy!" cried Polly.
"Well, he wasn't. He was just a plain smuggler."
"But, Billy, he used to hire your boat."
The ex-boatman made a weary motion with his hands.
"It's getting too many for me," he said. "He told me he was a grain-broker. A right decent sort of cuss, too."
"So you've been aiding and abetting a smuggler," remarked Mr. Davidson slowly as he glared at the boatman. "That's fine business for a nephew of mine. What else have you been doing? Any murders or embezzlements, or anything like that? Any highway robberies? Or maybe you were a pirate—eh? Well, why don't you answer?"