"Hang it, man," interposed the Director of Contracts, "surely you ought to know. You were on the ship when she went down."
"And I know it," agreed Peter grimly. "That she went down, I mean. As for the steelwork, that was landed at Bulonga a day or so before the disaster occurred."
"What?" demanded the Commissioner and Director of Contracts in one breath.
Peter repeated his assertion.
"Glorious news!" exclaimed the Commissioner. "Bless my soul, what possessed them to dump the stuff in a miserable backwater in Portuguese territory?"
"That's for you to say, sir," replied Mostyn. "I took in the wireless message when we were a few hours out from Durban. It came from the Company's agent, and obviously must have emanated from here."
"Obviously fiddlesticks!" interrupted the Director of Contracts. "If it had I would have been responsible for it. Fire away, let's have the whole yarn."
For the best part of an hour Mostyn kept his listeners deeply engrossed. The Commissioner completely forgot that there was a meal waiting for him. Here was an enthralling narrative with an unsolved mystery attached.
"Have you any available funds, Mr. Mostyn," he demanded bluntly, when Peter had brought his story to a close.
"Precious little, sir."