"It wasn't altogether luck. However, I do consider myself fortunate in escaping at the last moment," Boyd laughed easily. "By the way, what happened to the man they mistook for me?"
"Let him go, I believe. I didn't pay much attention to the matter." Marsh had been using his eyes to good advantage, and, seeing the work even better in hand than he had supposed, he was moved by irritation and the desire to goad his opponent to say more than he had intended: "I rather think you will have a lot to explain, one of these days," he said, with deliberate menace.
"With fifty thousand cases of salmon aboard The Bedford Castle I will explain anything. Meanwhile the police may go to the devil!" The cool assurance of the young man's tone roused his would-be tormentor like a personal affront.
"You got away from Seattle, but there is a commissioner at Dutch Harbor, also a deputy marshal, who may have better success with a warrant than those policemen had." The Trust's manager could not keep down the angry tremor in his voice, and the other, perceiving it, replied in a manner designed to inflame him still more:
"Yes, I have heard of those officers. I understand they are both in your employ."
"What!"
"I hear you have bought them."
"Do you mean to insinuate—"
"I don't mean to insinuate anything. Listen! We are where we can talk plainly, Marsh, and I am tired of all this subterfuge. You did what you could to stop me, you even tried to have me killed—"
"You dare to—"