“A pretty fair scheme,” said Macloud. “The fellow who is managing this business knew we would do more for the women than for ourselves.”
“It’s the same old difficulty—we haven’t got Parmenter’s treasure, but they refuse to be convinced.”
The telephone rang, and Croyden himself answered it.
“Captain Carrington asks that we come over at once,” he said, hanging up the receiver. “The Pinkerton men have arrived.”
They finished their breakfast and started. Half way to the gate, they met the postman coming 300 up the walk. He handed Croyden a letter, faced about and trudged away.
Croyden glanced at it, mechanically tore open the envelope, and drew it out. As his eyes fell on the first line, he stopped, abruptly.
“Listen to this!” he said.
“On Board The Parmenter,
“Pirate Sloop of War,
“Off the Capes of the Chesapeake.