"It struck me like that, too. Still, that's not quite the question. You see, the man isn't dead."
"I almost think he is by this time," said Brown, reflectively. "Now, he did not seem quite sure when he wrote those letters that there was really any gum in her. At least, he hadn't found it, and I understand that circumstances had made him a little suspicious about the Cumbria's skipper, who we know is dead. Taking oil at present value, in view of what we would have to pay for a salvage expedition and chartering, there is, it seems to me, nothing in the thing."
"I'm not quite sure of that; but you are still presuming Jefferson dead."
Brown turned and looked at him. "The first thing we have to do is to find out. Somebody will have to go across, and, of course, he must be a reliable man. I should be disposed to go so far as to meet the necessary expenses, not as a business venture, but because Jacinta would give me no peace if I didn't."
"There would be no difficulty about the man."
Brown turned to him sharply. "You?"
"Yes. If Jefferson is dead I should probably also undertake to do what I can to meet his wishes as executor."
Brown sat silent a space, and then tapped the letter with his glasses again. "In that case I might go as far as to find, say, £200. It should, at least, be sufficient to prove if there is any odd chance of getting the Cumbria off."
"I think I shall do that with £80, but I should prefer that you did not provide it. That is, unless you decide to go into the thing on a business footing, and take your share of the results, as laid down by Jefferson."
Brown seemed to be looking hard at him, but they sat in shadow, and Austin was glad of it.