"Not much I didn't. I wasn't here last night, and furthermore, my name isn't Barton. There's my name, Roy Sheldon; and I came to town yesterday afternoon in company with that fellow and that one," said the new-comer, pointing out Joe's name and Arthur's.
"Then, who was the chap who left a message for Wayring and Hastings?" exclaimed the puzzled clerk.
"I'm sure I don't know. Did he beat you out of anything?" inquired Roy, thinking of the swindler who had tried to palm off those bogus greenbacks upon him and his friends.
"Oh, no! He settled up all fair and square, and said he would wait for Wayring and Hastings at Bloomingdale. It couldn't have been your brother, could it? He looked like you."
"Don't own any brother. Say," cried Roy, an idea striking him. "Wasn't it Rowe Shelly?"
The clerk backed away from his desk and looked at Roy without speaking.
"I don't know who else it could have been, for I was mistaken for him, kidnapped, and carried over to the island, and just escaped being taken to sea by the skin of my teeth," continued Roy, growing excited as he thought of it. "Rowe must have been here and scraped an acquaintance with my friends, or he wouldn't have left a message for them. I did say I would make trouble for somebody if I ever got ashore, but since I have had time to think the matter over, I am not as mad as I was. Did it blow much here last night and early this morning? Well, I was out in the whole of it."
"Do you mean to say that that fool Rowe Shelly has run away from home again?" said the clerk, as if he could hardly believe the story.
"He has run away, but I don't know whether he's a fool or not. I am inclined to think he isn't. Where are those friends of mine?"