The funny part of the whole thing is that the man we saw in the boat didn’t have any second finger on his left hand. It couldn’t have been his finger the writer of the letter meant.
CHAPTER XVI
THE MYSTERY
Gee whiz, I didn’t even know that he had stopped talking. I was just looking into the blaze and I could see the whole thing right there. Maybe it wasn’t true at all, but anyway, I could see it. Especially I could see the old man. That’s just the way it is with camp-fires.
Then, all of a sudden Harry Donnelle poked up the fire and began to laugh. “Funny, hey?” he said.
I said, “Do you think the dead man in the boat stole the money and the letter?”
“The letter happened to be with the money,” Harry said; “I don’t know that I think anything in particular. But how did a sailor with the second finger of his left hand gone, happen to have a letter asking him to wear a ring on that finger. How about the soldier who is warned against going where he will get robbed? Maybe he went, after all, and got robbed. We might start a search for a soldier who happens to have a second finger on his left hand. But then, quite a few soldiers enjoy that distinction. So there we are—up a tree. But here is a sailor with two hundred odd dollars and a letter referring to two hundred dollars. There is something about him wearing a ring on a certain finger and he doesn’t happen to have that finger. Funny.
“Well then, here’s a query—as long as queries don’t cost anything. Might not the sailor have robbed the soldier of his two hundred and odd dollars? And just neglected to destroy the letter that was with it? You see, kids, I just ran plunk into the middle of the thing and I’d like to get hold of one end or the other. Somebody or other got a ring when he went away to war fifty years ago. He lived in a village. Who was he? Whoever he is, he’s having a hard job making two ends meet. If I could find him I think I’d turn over this money to him. Now at the other end of the line, somewhere, is a fellow that ran chances of being robbed—reckless, like your Uncle Dudley. He’s got a ring with President Lincoln’s face cut on it—a cameo. I’d like to find him.
“But you see I haven’t any way of finding either of them. The only thing I’m sure about is that the dead sailor couldn’t have worn the ring. His finger had been gone many years, that’s sure. So what are we going to do about it? I guess we’ll go to bed. But that isn’t getting us anywhere, is it?”
“Funny, hey? Kind of a mystery after all—Skeezeks.”