“No, I know just enough, and I’ll prove it to you.”
“I s’pose ye think ye kin force yer way inter this, but ye’re mistaken. This is the private affair o’ Mr. Tarr an’ me, an’ I warn ye ter keep yer nose out.”
He arose as he spoke, his fierce eyes fixed threateningly upon Weeks’ impassive face.
“You come with me, Mr. Tarr, where we can talk the matter over privately. We don’t want nothin’ o’ that swab.”
The red headed ex-clerk fairly laughed aloud at this.
“See here, Leroyd,” he said, still coolly: “you made a break for those papers yesterday, I believe. What did you get?”
“Hey?” roared the sailor.
“I said that you made a break for those papers of Cale Wetherbee’s yesterday,” repeated Weeks, slowly and distinctly. “Now, what did you get?”
“Not a blamed thing,” responded the sailor frankly, after an instant’s hesitation.
“That’s what I thought. I thought Cale Wetherbee took it altogether too coolly if you had made a haul worth anything. Now, I could tell you something, if I thought ’twould be worth my while.”