“How do you know?” demanded Mayo, with indignation.
“Haven't I been talking with the representative of one of the biggest salvaging companies on the Atlantic coast? He's there in Limeport now—was aboard my tug this morning.”
“How does he know?”
“Well, he does know. That's his business. And everybody in Limeport knows what he has said. He hasn't been bashful about expressing his opinion.”
Mayo leaned over the rail, a baleful light in his eyes indicating what his own opinions regarding this unknown detractor were, just then.
“I'd like to know who this Lord Guess-so is—barking behind honest men's backs!”
“Mr. Fogg! That's him! Seems to know his business!”
“Fogg?”
“'Exactly!' That's his great word,” explained the other, grinning. “Some chap, too, with cigars and language!”
“By the gods, now I know who chartered this tug!” he shouted. “What kind of a fool am I getting to be?”