"Manager a friend of yours?"
"I know him fairly well."
"Good," commented Captain Cain. "Here are paper, pen and ink. First write out an order transferring twenty thousand pounds to my account—Thomas Trevorrick—payable to my bankers, Messrs. Grabaul, Yewgett and Co., Truro."
For some minutes there was silence in the cabin. Somewhere for'ard a gramophone was blaring out that popular ditty: "Then he knew he'd parted."
Without a word, Chamfer handed over the order. The captain read it carefully.
"Ever heard that story about the Harley Street specialist, Mr. Chamfer?" he inquired. "Two of the brigands met in Oxford Street. Said one, 'How much did you charge So-and-so for that operation?' 'Seventy-eight pounds fifteen and sixpence,' was the reply. 'Extraordinary amount,' commented the other. 'Whatever made you fix that sum?' The specialist laughed. 'I made him show me his pass-book,' he replied. Well, I'm not asking to see yours, Mr. Chamfer, nor am I lifting all your little pile. At the same time, I want to make sure of what I have got, so just write a friendly little covering letter to the manager of your bank."
"What shall I say?" asked the victim wearily.
"Gracious, man! Haven't you any imagination? Perhaps that qualification isn't required of Admiralty Civil Servants. Tell him you've been unexpectedly ordered a sea voyage by your medical adviser, and that before you go you must make certain adjustments in your finances.... That's right. I presume you won't require a receipt?"
"What are you going to do with me now?" asked Jasper Chamfer, tremulously.
"What I told you before," replied the pirate, with a grin. "A voyage to Jamaica or Pernambuco will do you a world of good. Broaden your outlook on life, Chamfer; enlarge your mental horizon. But, remember, for the next four months your name's Jones. One hint to the contrary and, by Jove! your number's up. 'Nough said!"