Just here one of the officer's assistants came up and whispered in the ear of his superior. He pointed at the forecastle.
"Yes, yes," nodded Silverado, "take a look there, and be thorough."
"Getting warm!" chuckled Dave to himself--"the precious hypocrites!"
The man went into the forecastle and came out again. He looked into the water barrel. He lifted some box covers. Just as Dave guessed he would do, he kept up all this wise pretense until he landed up against the forecastle cubby-hole.
"I have found something," he announced, after groping in the hole. He had brought forth the stone jar.
"Ah, what is this?" spoke the officer. "Captain," he added, assuming great sudden gravity as he inspected the jar, "this looks pretty serious."
"Well, what's the mare's nest now?" petulantly demanded Broadbeam.
The officer held up the jar in plain view.
"It is what we expected to find," he announced severely. "It is opium. We know that last week a tramp steamer landed a lot of the stuff on the island. The labels show that this is part of the same contraband cargo. I declare this package and the Swallow under confiscation, and arrest you. You must come to the governor."
"Oh, that so?" slowly spoke Captain Broadbeam, his shoulders hunching dangerously. "I never saw that jar before, and, shiver my timbers!" roared the incensed old captain, shaking his fist vigorously under Silverado's nose, "I don't know the stuff is opium."