"Tarabacca!" he cried, much excited. "Why, that's the name of the steam yacht lying alongside my boat at Pierside."
[CHAPTER XIII]
A MEXICAN BEAUTY
Early next morning, Sweetlips Kind was talking to Dr. Browne in the consulting-room of the latter at his Tarhaven house. On tracing the connection of the mysterious word "Tarabacca" with the shawl which had to do with Armour's kidnapping, and which consequently was of a piece with the tragic incident of the "Marsh Inn" crime, the Cheap-jack had postponed his departure. Eager as he was to leave the dangerous neighbourhood of Desleigh, where one and all were on the alert to capture Herries, he thought it well to see what sort of crew manned the yacht referred to by the accused man. Beyond the fact that the oddity of the name had struck him, Herries knew nothing. When the Arctic sealer "Nansen" came to Pierside, the yacht was already berthed by the wharf, and Herries had left his ship so immediately, owing to the persecution of the captain, that he had made no enquiries as to the nationality of the strange vessel. Nor, had he remained on board the "Nansen," would he have so enquired, since the "Tarabacca" did not interest him in the slightest. Now, however, that the yacht's name was on the shawl, and a letter had apparently been addressed to someone on board by the dead man, the subject became one of vital importance.
Dr. Browne, very hopeful as to the future, had returned to Tarhaven by a late train from London, that fortunately stopped for a few moments at Desleigh railway station, and had taken leave of Kind with the understanding that the Cheap-jack was to proceed next day to Pierside, for the purpose of making enquiries about the "Tarabacca." The doctor was therefore surprised when Sweetlips arrived, somewhere about nine o'clock in the morning to continue the conversation broken off on the previous night. He appeared to be in a hurry, and lost no time in explaining.
"It's a rum word, is 'Tarabacca'," remarked Kind, when the maid had left the two alone in the severe-looking apartment.
Browne nodded.
"It sounds like an Indian word," said he, judiciously. "Why not an Indiana word," suggested the Cheap-jack.
"Might belong to South America," agreed the doctor. "There's a sort of Peruvian ring about it. Why?"
Kind asked an irrelevant question.