“Let them—I’ve no objection.”
“Pardon me, but I think, in this matter, you would have objection.”
“You’ll say it quickly, and here, or not at all,” snapped Croyden.
The man shrugged his shoulders.
“It’s scarcely a subject to be discussed on the street,” he observed, “but, if I must, I must. Did you ever hear of Robert Parmenter? Oh! I see that you have! Well, the business concerns a certain letter—need I be more explicit?”
“If you wish to make your business intelligible.”
The fellow shrugged his shoulders again.
“As you wish,” he said, “though it only consumes time, and I was under the impression that you were in a hurry. However: To repeat—the business concerns a letter, which has to do with a certain treasure buried long ago, on Greenberry Point, by the said Robert Parmenter. Do I make myself plain, now, sir?”
“Your language is entirely intelligible—though I cannot answer for the facts recited.” 199
The man smiled imperturbably, and went on: