"I believe I did punch his head, years ago, Selwyn. But he was looking for a fight and found it, and ought to have been satisfied. Between you and me and no one else, the chief of police here and I have fixed this matter up between us. He says that he has no evidence, and the only man who might have given the affair away has been shipped off somewhere. I'm going to show Mr. Smith that he didn't make a bucko mate of me for nothing. And I want you to help. I've got a scheme."
He unfolded it to Selwyn, and the young lieutenant chuckled.
"He used to be a seaman," said the admiral, "but for twelve years he's been living comfortably on shore, sucking the blood of sailors. And if I know anything about American ships—and I do—he'll find three months in the fo'castle of this Harvester worse than three years in a gaol. Now we're going to invade the United States quite unofficially, with the connivance of the police!"
He lay back and laughed.
"Oh, I tell you," said the admiral, "he ran against something not laid down in his chart when he fell in with me. You can come ashore with me now and we'll see this Cartwright. American ways suit me, after all."
"Then I understand, Mr. Cartwright," said the admiral, an hour later, "that there won't be a policeman anywhere within hail of this Smith's house to-morrow night?"
"I've got other business for them," said Peter.
"And I can see Mr. Sant here this afternoon?"
"I'll undertake to have him here if you call along at three."
He spent the interval at lunch with the British Consul.