"My name is Haggerty, of th' New York detective force; American
Scotland Yard, 'f that'll sound better. Better tell me all about it."
"I'm a British subject, on board a British ship."
"Nothing doing in m' lord style. When y' put your foot on that pier
you become amenable t' th' laws o' th' United States, especially 'f
you've committed a crime."
"A crime?"
"Listen here. You went int' Lumpy Joe's, waited till Jameson got
drunk, an' then you rolled him."
"Rolled?"--genuinely bewildered.
"Picked his pockets, if you want it blunt. Th' question is, did he
take it from you 'r you from him? I can arrest you, Mr. Webb, British
subject 'r not. 'S up t' you t' tell me th' story. Don't be afraid of
me; I don't eat up men. All y' got t' do is t' treat me on th' level.
You won't lose anything 'f you're honest."
"Come with me, sir." (The smuggler was, in his day, a match in cunning
for any or all of His Majesty's coast-guards.) Haggerty followed the young man down the various companionways.
Instinctively he knew what was coming, the pith of the matter if not
the details. Thomas pulled out his trunk, unlocked it, threw back the
lid, and picked up an old leather box.
"Look at this, sir. It was my mother's. And I'd be a fine chap, would
I not, to let a drunken scoundrel steal it and get away with it."
It was a Neapolitan brooch, of pink coral, surrounded by small pearls.
Haggerty balanced it on his palm and appraised it at three or found
hundred dollars. He glanced casually into the leather box. Some faded
tin-types, some letters, a very old Bible, and odds and ends of a young
man's fancy: Haggerty shrugged. It looked as if he had stumbled into a
mare's-nest.
"He said you took money."
"He lied,"--tersely.
"Do y' want t' appear against him?"
"No. We sail at seven to-morrow. So long as he missed his shot, let
him go."
"Why didn't y' lodge a complaint against him?"
"I'm not familiar with your laws, Mr. Haggerty. So I took the matter
in my own hands."
"Don't do it again. Sorry t' trouble you. But duty's duty. An'
listen. Always play your game above board; it pays."
"Thanks."
Haggerty started to offer his hand, but the look in the gray eyes
caused him to misdoubt and reconsider the impulse. So Thomas made his
first mistake, which, later on, was to cost him dear. Coconnas shook
hands with Caboche the headsman, and escaped the "question
extraordinary." Truth is, Thomas was not an accomplished liar. He
could lie to the detective, but he could not bring himself to shake
hands on it.