“Of course. And why the fellow kept them I don’t see. They’re incriminating. But he was all in when the crimp brought him aboard——”
“Who is the fellow?” gasped I, in amazement.
“Says his name’s Bodfish—young lout! I took pity on him when I saw him in that crimp-shop. He had spent a pocketful of money, or had it stolen. I suppose he is the fellow that represented himself as you at the consulate,” said Captain Rogers.
“Paul Downes!”
“Like enough. Of course, I didn’t suppose Bodfish was his re’l name. But he was an American—and a boy. I couldn’t leave him to be put aboard some coaster where he’d be beaten to death. He hasn’t been much good, though, aboard this bark. But maybe by the time we see Bedford again he’ll be licked into some sort of shape. I put him in Ben’s watch, knowing that Robbins might be too ha’sh with him.”
But I was eager to read my mother’s letter—and the others. I asked the kind old captain’s permission, and dropped right down there and perused the several epistles which good fortune had at last brought to me. Oh, I was glad indeed that I had cabled mother from Buenas Ayres. And now I wished more than ever that I had gone home from there instead of shipping in the Sea Spell.
Mother had cabled me two hundred dollars. Paul had made way with it all, it seemed, and Captain Rogers had found him in the lowest kind of a sailor’s lodging house, helpless, in debt to the keeper of the place, and unable to get away.
But I was not interested in my cousin’s fate just then. I read mother’s long letter with a feeling that all was not as well at home as I could wish. She had been greatly shocked at my disappearance. At first they had thought I had run away. I could guess mighty easily who suggested that idea!
She did not write much of Mr. Chester Downes; but she did mention the fact that when she had returned to Darringford House Mr. Hounsditch had been very officious in attending upon her and in showing her that she was a good deal tied down by the provisions of grandfather’s will and that the lawyer was to advise her at every turn. Especially did she complain that Mr. Hounsditch had been officious since I was heard from.
The tone of her letter hurt me a little. There seemed to be some idea still in her mind that it was my reckless disposition more than the crime of another, that had set me adrift in the Wavecrest. She spoke of “Mr. Downes’ great trouble” and of “poor Paul” as though they were both to be pitied. Otherwise she did not touch on the topic of my having been cut adrift by my cousin, or his emissaries.