"And he touched here three days ago, according to the negro," said
Cardatas, addressing the horse-dealer. "What do you say to that, Nunez?
From what we know, I don't think it will be hard to find out more."

Nunez agreed with him, and thought it might pay to find out more. Soon after this, being informed that it was time to shut up the place, the four men went out, taking Inkspot with them. They would not neglect this poor fellow. They would give him a place to sleep, and in the morning he should have something to eat. It would be very unwise to let him go from them at present.

The next morning Inkspot strolled about the wharves of Valparaiso, in company with the two sailors, who never lost sight of him, and he had rather a pleasant time, for they gave him as much to eat and drink as was good for him, and made him understand as well as they could that it would not be long before they would help him to return to the brig Miranda commanded by Captain Horn.

In the meantime, the horse-dealer, Nunez, went to a newspaper office, and there procured a file of a Mexican paper, for the negro had convinced them that his vessel had sailed from Acapulco. Turning over the back numbers week after week, and week after week, Nunez searched in the maritime news for the information that the Miranda had cleared from a Mexican port. He had gone back so far that he had begun to consider it useless to make further search, when suddenly he caught the name Miranda. There it was. The brig Miranda had cleared from Acapulco September 16, bound for Rio Janeiro in ballast. Nunez counted the months on his fingers.

"Five months ago!" he said to himself. "That's not this trip, surely. But I will talk to Cardatas about that." And taking from his pocket a little note-book in which he recorded his benefactions in the line of horse trades, he carefully copied the paragraph concerning the Miranda.

When Nunez met Cardatas in the afternoon, the latter also had news. He had discovered that the arrival of the Miranda had not been registered, but he had been up and down the piers, asking questions, and he had found a mate of a British steamer, then discharging her cargo, who told him that the Miranda, commanded by Captain Horn, had anchored in the harbor three days back, during the night, and that early the next morning Captain Horn had sent him a letter which he wished posted, and that very soon afterwards the brig had put out to sea. Cardatas wished to know much more, but the mate, who had had but little conversation with Shirley, could only tell him that the brig was then bound from Acapulco to Rio Janeiro in ballast, which he thought rather odd, but all he could add was that he knew Captain Horn, and he was a good man, and that if he were sailing in ballast, he supposed he knew what he was about.

Nunez then showed Cardatas the note he had made, and remarked that, of course, it could not refer to the present voyage of the brig, for it could not take her five months to come from Acapulco to this port.

"No," said the other, musing, "it oughtn't to, but, on the other hand, it is not likely she is on her second voyage to Rio, and both times in ballast. That's all stuff about ballast. No man would be such a fool as to sail pretty nigh all around this continent in ballast. He could find some cargo in Mexico that he could sell when he got to port. Besides, if that black fellow don't lie,—and he don't know enough to lie,—she's bound for Paris. It's more likely she means to touch at Rio and take over some cargo. But why, in the devil's name, should she sail from Acapulco in ballast? It looks to me as if bags of gold might make very good ballast."

"That's just what I was thinking," said Nunez.

"And what's more," said the other, "I'll bet she brought it down from California with her when she arrived at Acapulco. I don't believe she originally cleared from there."