“You can bet ye didn’t,” Caleb declared with confidence, and with a slight wink at Adoniram. “Let me tell ye, Mr. Tarr, that openin’ other folks’ correspondence is actionable, as the lawyers say. I reckon that you’ve laid yourself li’ble to gettin’ arrested yourself, old man.”
“Ye—ye can’t do it,” sputtered Arad.
“If that monkey of a sheriff finds Brandon (w’ich same I reckon he won’t), we’ll see if we can’t give you a taste of the same medicine.”
The old man was undeniably frightened and edged towards the door.
“I guess I better go,” he remarked hesitatingly. “I dunno as that officer’ll be able ter ketch thet reskil.”
“No, I don’t b’lieve he will myself,” Caleb declared. “And if you want to keep your own skin whole, you’d best see that he doesn’t touch the lad.”
Old Arad slunk out without another word, and the two friends allowed him to depart in contemptuous silence.
When he had disappeared Adoniram turned to the sailor at once.
“Where has Don gone, Caleb?” he asked anxiously.
“You’ve got me. He told me he was goin’ to skip, and for us to go ahead with the preparations for getting off next week, just the same. He’d lay low till the old scamp had given it up, and then slip aboard the steamer. Oh, the boy’s all right.”