"But Finland wrote it for you to read," said Chard, stupefied by this unexpected ignorance.
"Then why the tarnation couldn't he write in English?" snapped the captain. "I can't read hen scratches."
The inspector looked glum. He could not say whether Jacob spoke truly or falsely. It was possible that Finland might be playing a trick and jesting with the dignity of the law. On the other hand, it seemed incredible that one in so serious a position should act in such a way. Chard looked hard at the sallow face of the skipper. Apparently he was speaking the truth. His face was set like a mask. Then a new idea struck Mr. Inspector.
"If you can't read it, some one on board your ship can!" he declared.
"Well, I should smile. D'ye think we carry a university on board?"
"But if Finland had not meant this letter to be read he would not have written it. You know this cypher. Don't lie!"
"I'll knock your head off if you give me the lie," retorted Shackel. "Let me see Finland, and I'll ask him myself what the dickens he means by playing low down on the old man."
"No, you won't see him," said the inspector, sharply. "For all I know, the sight of this cypher may be a signal to bring you together. You may wish to gain instructions from Finland regarding the removal of evidence."
"Me take instructions!" bawled the skipper; "why, cuss you, ain't I a quarter-deck astride. It 'ud be a dandy fine thing for Captain Jacob to obey orders of any second-rate, squawking, swivel-eyed son of a rum-puncheon. Here, gimme that letter and I'll git."
Chard snatched the cypher off the table and put it into his pocket. "No," said he; "if you can't read it, it isn't meant for you."