There was a moment's pause.
"What sort of a person!" repeated the skipper. "Do you mean that you don't know him—that you didn't give him that card?"
"I have never heard of him in my life," said Tony tranquilly.
With a strange noise, such as a tiger would probably make if somebody trod upon his toe, Mr. McEwen turned to the skipper.
"Did I no tell ye that the mon was an impostor?" he demanded excitedly.
Fumbling in his waistcoat pocket, Captain Simmons produced a dirty and crumpled visiting card, which he held out to Tony.
"It's only a chance that I didn't tear it up," he observed rather grimly.
Tony took the card which, despite its dilapidated appearance, had every appearance of being one of his own. He was just able to make out the following half obliterated message scribbled across it in pencil.
Mr. Hemmingway is a friend of mine.
Please allow him to look over the Betty.
A.C.
"I don't wonder it took you in," he said, with a tinge of admiration. "It's a most artistic forgery."