"I know it positively. And that he was in London."
The detective looked over his notes, as if completely ignoring Mr. Carr's words.
"You heard, gentlemen, of that mutiny on board the ship Morning Star, some three years ago? Made a noise at the time."
"Well?"
"Ringleader was this same man, George Gordon."
"No!" exclaimed Mr. Carr.
"No reasonable doubt about it. Friend of his feels none: can't understand how G.G. could have turned suddenly cruel; never was that. Pooh! when men have been leading lawless lives in the bush, perhaps taken regularly to drinking—which G.G. was inclined to before—they're ready for any crime under the sun."
"But how do you connect Gordon with the ringleader of that diabolical mutiny?"
"Easy enough. Same name, George Gordon: wrote to a friend the ship he was coming home in—Morning Star. It was the same; price on G.G.'s head to this day: shouldn't mind getting it. Needn't pother over it, sir; 'twas Gordon: but he'd never put his foot in London."
"If true, it would account for his not showing himself to his friend—assuming that he did come back," observed Mr. Carr.