"We're going to Valparaiso first, then we're going to work down the coast, round the Horn to San Francisco and maybe we'll get a cargo across to China."
"I'll think it over," said the colonel.
That night he called on the captain and told him that he had made up his mind to go.
"Good!" said the skipper, "but you'll have to sign on to-night. I'm leaving to-morrow by the first tide."
The colonel nodded, not daring to speak. Here was luck, the greatest in the world. Nobody would suspect a carpenter, taken from a local firm and shipped with the captain's goodwill. At seven o'clock the next morning he was standing on the deck of the Arabelle Sands, watching the low coast-line slipping past. The ship was to make one call at Falmouth and two days later she reached that port. Boundary went ashore to buy some wood and a few tools that he found he needed, and pulled back to the ship in the afternoon. In the evening he accompanied the captain ashore.
"We shan't leave till to-morrow at twelve," said the captain. "You might as well spend a night on solid earth whilst you can. It will be a long time before you smell dirt again."
The captain's idea of a pleasant evening was to sit in the bar-parlour of the Sun Inn and drink interminable hot rums. He had fixed up a room for himself at the inn and offered Boundary a share, but the colonel preferred to sleep alone. He secured lodgings in the town, and making an excuse to the captain returned to his room early. He had purchased all the newspapers he could find and he wanted to study them quietly. It was with unusual relish that he read the account of an inquest on himself. There was no breath of suspicion that he was not dead.
"Old Dan Boundary has tricked them all. Clever old Dan Boundary!"
He chuckled at the thought. He had deceived all those clever men at Scotland Yard—Sir Stanley Belcom, Stafford King, Jack o' Judgment! Yes, he had deceived Jack o' Judgment and that seemed the least believable part of the affair. All the rest of the gang were captured or fugitives. He wondered whether Lollie Marsh and Crewe had reached Portugal and what they were doing there and how long their money would last and how they would earn more. He had his own money well secured. He had managed to get together quite a respectable sum, for there were other banks than the Victoria and City—odd accounts in assumed names which he had drawn upon on the very day of his supposed death.
There was a tap at the door.