“All right, Mister Smiley. Come, Harper.” In passing his assistant, Beveridge paused to whisper: “I 'll be at the house. See that McGlory doesn't try to get ashore. If he gives you any trouble, whistle.”
A few moments more, and they were seated around Mrs. Fargo's dining table, Beveridge, Dick, Pink Harper, and the old fisherman. Annie was shut in her room, refusing admittance even to her mother.
“There's one question that comes up right here, Mr. Smiley,” began Beveridge, “before we go any farther. Is this man Harper one of your accomplices?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Don't take my time by evasions. You have given me trouble enough now. If you will tell me he has had little or nothing to do with this business, and if he can give a good account of himself, I 'll let him go. What do you say?”
“Will you tell me what you mean?”
“That's enough. I won't waste any more time on it. We 'll hold him. Cap'n,” turning to Fargo, “there's one thing—I guess you can understand my position—I shall have to call on Annie for a witness, a little later.”
Here Dick broke out. “So that's why you dragged her into this, is it?”
“Be careful what you say, Mr. Smiley.” Dick looked hard at him, then glanced around the group, then settled back in his chair. After a short silence, Captain Fargo spoke.
“This isn't all settled, is it, Mr. Beveridge? Dick hasn't told you that what you thought was so?”