“But you told me that you were convinced that he was a Scandinavian.”
“Yes. But he might have come from Stockholm, or Gothenburg or Christiania.”
“Our first inquiries must be of the Danish police,” Frank said decisively. “I’ll write to-night to our correspondent in Copenhagen.”
“Would it not be best for you to go there and make inquiries yourself?”
“I may do that. Most probably I shall.”
“Stories of treasure are always attractive,” remarked the Doctor, casting a crafty glance at his young friend. “I hope, Mr Farquhar, you will make no mention in any of your papers regarding it.”
“My dear Doctor, don’t worry yourself about that,” Frank laughed. “Of treasure stories we’ve of late had a perfect glut. For a long time, for instance, I’ve taken a deep interest in the wrecks of vessels known to have contained treasure, the exact location of which are known. As an example, we have the ship Grosvenor now lying off the Pondoland Coast with over a million and a half pounds of treasure in her rotting hold. Then there’s the Ariston, in Marcus Bay, with 800,000 pounds worth; the Birkenhead, on Birkenhead Reef, with a similar amount; the Atlas, near Yarmouth, with 700,000 pounds, the Dorothea, on Tenedos Reef, with 460,000 pounds; the Abercrombie, lying under the Black Rock, with 180,000 pounds; and the Merenstein, on the coast of Yutton Island, with 120,000 pounds. In addition to these there are H.M.S. Chandos with 60,000 pounds in coin in her hold, the troopship Addison with 20,000 pounds in gold, and the Harlem II, lying half covered by sand with her hold full of silver bars. All these and many others are lying in positions perfectly well known, and only await salvage. Why, in one gale off the West African coast in 1802 seven ships were wrecked, all of them containing a vast treasure. Besides, the contents of the vessels I have mentioned have all been verified from their bills of lading still in existence. No, my dear Doctor,” the young man added with a laugh, “had the story been an ordinary one of treasure it would not have interested me in the least, I assure you; and as for publishing any details, why, my dear sir, is it not to my own personal interest to keep the matter as secret as possible? Please do not have any apprehension on that score.”
“I have not,” declared the hunchback; “my great fear, however, is that this professor friend of yours may chatter.”
“He will not. I have impressed upon Griffin the value of silence,” said Frank. “Besides, he is a ‘dry-as-dust,’ silent man, who says nothing, so absorbed is he in his studies in his own particular sphere.”
“Good. Then we will now transfer our attention to Copenhagen.”