A messenger came with two rather startling bits of information; the Sparticide, the Swedish ship, had asked for her papers and wanted to clear at five the next morning, and the more mystifying knowledge—even to me—that my clerk, Miss Bascom, had arrived at that moment at the St. Charles hotel and was dining there with a distinguished stranger. Would I also check up the stranger?
Both situations needed immediate attention and I could not be in two places at the same time. I called Hiram, Jr., from the room where he was busily packing.
"Hiram, come here and sit down long enough for me to funnel a bit of instruction into your think tank," said I, recalling that I had not mentioned the Sparticide matter to him.
He came and sat down in front of me, the corners of his mouth slightly elevated, folded his hands in front of him and waited in a slightly humorous and bored attitude for some inkling of what he was about to draw.
"Hiram, a Swedish ship, bound for Stockholm, is in the stream on the other side, just below Algiers, and is asking to be cleared to-morrow morning at five. It is thought she has, or will have to-night, a considerable quantity of Becker & Co.'s product on board. Foodstuffs of any sort to Sweden are forbidden, and if taken are contraband. His clearance papers are blocked until we are satisfied. Principally, what we want now is a liberal sample of what they take aboard from Becker. You will be there in an unofficial capacity, so use discretion, but get the samples. Here is a copy of the captain's letter closing the deal."
I had not half finished when his eyes began to glitter and dance as though they might jump from their sockets, and I had barely completed my instructions when he grabbed the letter, threw on his coat and bounded down the stairs three steps at a time.
CHAPTER XXII
Those who say that any man will naturally fall for a pretty young woman are pessimistic. Age, unspoiled, will crave association with youth, but a young man will quite adequately fill the bill.