“Why, dash my top lights!” he exclaimed, in surprise. “Ef here ain’t Mr. Tarr!”
He stepped back to the table and grasped the old man’s hand most cordially, at the same time casting a suspicious glance at Weeks. He knew the ex-clerk by reputation, as Weeks knew him.
“Don’t ye be up ter any funny biz with this gentleman, Sneaky,” he said, with a scowl. “He’s my friend.”
“Don’t you fret,” responded Weeks. “He and I were talking about his nephew, Brandon Tarr, who was up to see you yesterday——”
Mr. Leroyd uttered a volley of choice profanity at this, and Arad was greatly surprised.
“Came ter see yeou?” he gasped. “Er—erbout that matter we was a-talkin’ of, Mr. Leroyd? Ye know I—I’m his legal guardeen——”
“Don’t ye be scared, Mr. Tarr,” said Weeks, who understood the circumstances pretty well, “I can vouch for Jim, here, not playing you false.”
“What do you know about it, anyway?” growled Jim uglily.
“Now, sit down and keep cool, Leroyd,” urged Weeks. “I know all about it. I know about your little scheme to gobble the—the treasure aboard the Silver Swan——”
“Sh!” exclaimed Leroyd fiercely. “You know too much, young feller.”