"Rather sudden and mysterious, wasn't it?" asked Gus, carelessly.
"Yes, rather sudden, and mebbe mysterious to them as don't suspect nothing. But I can easy account for it. Howsomever, it ain't no consarn of mine, and I don't meddle with other people's business. Savin' your presence, Mr. 'Gustus, he's the meanest man that ever stepped, is Cap'n Nellis."
"He was the meanest man, you mean," suggested the visitor.
"No, I don't mean anything of the kind," insisted Barlow. "I say he is, 'cause, barring accident that is likely to fall to men in any part of the world, he's as hale and hearty this minute as me and you be, the old villain!"
"Whew!" whistled Gus, opening his eyes in amazement and looking a little alarmed.
"It's a fact, I tell you," declared Barlow, "'cause I know. But if I did see a few things one dark and rainy mornin', and by putting this and that together got at the whole of the story, so that I can tell it to-day as straight as them that done the business, 'tain't no consarn of nobody's, is it? If I had had a hand in the matter he wouldn't ever turn up again, as he is likely to do."
Gus was too astonished to speak. Here was a startling revelation indeed.
CHAPTER VI.
BOB AT HOME.
Before Gus had time to fairly digest what he had heard or to recover himself sufficiently to elicit further information by inquiry, the old man went on:
"Some folks makes a bungle of everything they do, and you just wait and see if that old scamp don't turn up again some day, and before he is wanted, too. But I oughtn't to abuse him before you, seeing that he is your own dead mother's brother."