“Another proof of its genuineness,” said Macloud. “Have you made any effort to identify this 98 man Parmenter—from the records at Annapolis.”
“No—I’ve done nothing but look at the letter—except to trace the Duval descent,” Croyden replied.
“He speaks, here, of his last will and testament being left with Mr. Dulany. If it were probated, that will establish Parmenter, especially if Marmaduke Duval is the legatee. What do you know of Annapolis?”
“Nothing! I never was there—I looked it up on the map I found, here, and Greenberry Point is as the letter says—across the Severn River from it.”
Macloud laughed, in good-natured raillery.
“You seem to have been in a devil of a hurry!” he said. “At the same rate of progression, you will go to Annapolis some time next spring, and get over to Greenberry Point about autumn.”
“On the contrary, it’s your coming that delayed me,” Croyden smiled. “But for your wire, I would have started this morning—now, if you will accompany me, we’ll go day-after-to-morrow.”
“Why delay?” said Macloud. “Why not go to-night?”
“It’s a long journey around the Bay by rail—I’d rather cross to Baltimore by boat; from there it’s only an hour’s ride to Annapolis by electric cars. And there isn’t any boat sailing until day-after-to-morrow.”
“Where’s the map?” said Macloud. “Let me see where we are, and where Annapolis is.... 99 Hum! we’re almost opposite! Can’t we get a boat in the morning to take us across direct—charter it, I mean? The Chesapeake isn’t wide at this point—a sailing vessel ought to make it in a few hours.”