“For the theft of my mummy.”
Hervey laughed raucously.
“I guess the law can't worry me about that after thirty years, and in a low-down country like Peru. Your Government has shifted fifty times since I looted the corpse.”
This was quite true, and there was absolutely no chance of the skipper being brought to book. Don Pedro looked rather disconsolate, and his gaze dropped under the glare of Hervey's eyes, which seemed unfair, seeing that the Don was as good as the captain was evil.
“You can't expect me to condone the theft,” he muttered.
“I reckon I don't expect anything,” retorted Hervey coolly “I looted the corpse, I don't deny, and—”
“After my father had treated you like a son,” said Don Pedro bitterly. “You were homeless and friendless, and my father took you in, only to find that you robbed him of his most precious possession.”
The skipper had the grace to blush, and shifted uneasily in his chair.
“You can't say truer than that,” he grumbled, averting his eyes. “I guess I'm a bad lot all through. But a friend of mine wanted the corpse, and offered me a heap of dollars to see the business through.”
“Do you mean to say that some one asked you to steal it?”