“I reckon so,” he returned, eyeing me grimly. “And I’ve a reason for not telling you. Private business.”
“I don’t mean to be too ‘nosey,’” I returned. “But I’ll ask you another question. If it hasn’t anything to do with your private business, you’ll answer me?”
“Let drive,” he commanded, thoughtfully smoking.
“When you were in Santiago three or four years ago——”
“Come to think of it, it was five year back,” interrupted the captain.
“All right,” I said. “Did you at that time mail a letter for Professor Vose from that town?”
Captain Tugg smote his knee suddenly. “By the e-tar-nal snakes!” he ejaculated. “Now you remind me.”
“Did you?” I asked, eagerly.
“Only letter I ever knowed him to write. He gave it to me before I started in the Sea Spell. Yes, sir. I mailed it there, for it was among my papers, and I forgot it when we touched at Conception, and again when we put in at Valparaiso.”
“Was that letter addressed to Tom Anderly, at the office of Radnor & Blunt, in New York—a firm of shipping merchants?”