“There are some instances in which silence may be misinterpreted. Let me state at once that the shippers of the valuable cargo on board the Kansas will suffer a serious financial reverse if the ship is lost. Two thousand tons of copper may be worth a considerable fixed sum, but the lack of the metal on the London market at the end of January will have far-reaching consequences in a fight against the bull clique in Paris, and that is why Mr. Baring made this heavy shipment.”
“Those consequences could be foreseen and discounted,” put in Tollemache, dryly.
“Exactly. But by whom? By the man who sent his only daughter as a passenger on this vessel?”
Every one scouted that notion. But Tollemache, though disavowing any thought of Mr. Baring as a party to the scheme, stuck to his guns.
“Somebody will make a pile when the Kansas is reported missing,” he said.
“The insurance money would not be paid for a long time,” Courtenay explained.
“No, but the copper market will respond instantly.”
“Then the process has commenced already. The Kansas should have been reported yesterday from Sandy Point. The news that she has not arrived will soon reach the nearest cable station. There will be terrific excitement at Lloyd’s when that becomes known.”
“It is distinctly odd that Suarez should turn up last night, and tell us how gold slipped through his fingers five years ago. Let us hope the parallel will hold good for the gentleman who so amiably endeavored to send the Kansas to the bottom of the Pacific,” said Christobal.
“It is rather a rotten trick,” broke in Tollemache, “just a bit of Spanish roguery— Well, I’m sorry, Christobal, but I can’t regard you as quite a Spaniard, you see.”