“What you want, den?”
She glanced at him, and was surprised to see that his face was livid, almost green with rage and perplexity. It must be a grave matter—this jumble of hints in Evelyn’s letter.
“Can you read English?” she asked, after a pause.
“Yes, leetle piece—better as I can make palaver.”
“Read that then.”
She handed him the copy of that part of the fateful letter that alluded to himself and his affairs. He puzzled it out, word by word.
“Where him lib for?” he demanded.
“That was written by Miss Dane and intended for Captain Warden. I came by it, no matter how, and I mean to make use of it in some way.”
With a rapid movement, he stuffed the sheet of note–paper into a pocket.
“I keep dem letter,” he announced.