The extract from the Templeton Observer which gave rise to this duet of wrath was as follows, dated some ten days before the close of the holidays:—
The recent mysterious disappearance of a Templeton boat.—Up to the present time nothing has been heard of the Martha, which, as our readers will remember, disappeared from the Templeton beach, on the 4th June last. The supposed clue with which the police professed to be provided has, so far, failed to bring the perpetrators of the outrage to justice; although the hope is by no means abandoned of tracing the missing lad. The matter is somewhat seriously complicated by the discovery that Thomas White, the reputed owner of the boat, was at no time its actual proprietor. The Martha was the joint property of White and three other men, one of them skipper of the brig Julia, and the other two well-known fishermen, of this town. It appears that an arrangement was made, whereby White should be the nominal owner of the boat, he undertaking to hand over monthly three quarters of the profits to his partners. In May last, during the absence of his other partners, White pawned the Martha representing her to be his sole property, and appropriated the whole proceeds of the transaction. For this act of fraud (which the recent loss of the boat and the return of its joint owners has brought to light) we understand a writ has been issued against White, and that he will be arrested immediately on his return to Templeton from his present cruise with the Fishing Fleet in the high seas.
“Tom White’s a regular bad one,” said Dick.
“Yes. It was a jolly mean trick to pawn what didn’t belong to him.”
“The thing is, who did it belong to when we—when it got adrift?”
“The pawnbroker, I suppose,” said Heathcote. “Most likely Nash.”
“No wonder Tom White didn’t seem much cut up about losing her.”
“No; he made a good thing by it. It’s a comfort to think he’ll get nabbed at last.”
“Of course, we’ve nothing to do with his row,” said Dick.
“Of course not. We had nothing to do with pawning the boat.”