“But it is about an attempt to rob your safe while you were gone.”
“Nonsense!”
“I assure you it is a fact, upon my word and honor as a gentleman. I found it out by the merest accident.”
“Then why didn’t one of the mates speak about it?”
“Because they were in the plot,” replied the clerk, sinking his voice almost to a whisper. “I’ll take you to that boat with me if I have to carry you under my arm,” he added, mentally.
“Fowler!” exclaimed Walter, turning upon him almost fiercely, “do you want me to—” Walter finished the sentence by pushing up his coat sleeves. “Do you? If you don’t, don’t let me hear you say another word against Mr. Baldwin or Mr. Parker. My uncle would trust them with the key of his safe as readily as he trusts me with it. They’re honest, and that’s more than I think you are.”
Walter’s leavetaking was so very abrupt and unceremonious that Fowler could have made no attempt to detain him, even had he felt so disposed. But he did not want to make the attempt. He stood silent and motionless where Walter left him, and saw the latter join the merry group on the veranda. Presently they all arose from their seats and went into the house. It was well for Fowler that he let him go, for the wiry young paymaster could have tossed him over the nearest fence with almost as much ease as Fowler himself could tell a lie.
Being disappointed in his attempts to make a prisoner of Walter, the consul’s clerk began to think of himself. He ran down the river-bank, and presently reached the spot where Bob and the other convict were keeping guard over somebody in a Panama hat and black suit, who was seated in the stern of the boat.
“Is that you, Fowler?” demanded the ticket-of-leave man, impatiently. “I was just going to push off. I have waited for you long enough. I caught this fellow half an hour ago.”
“This fellow? What fellow?” demanded the clerk.