Anthony cocked a shrewd eye at him. "That," said he, "is keeping your mouth close shut, indeed." "It is," said the West Indian merchant. He shook a skinny, warning finger. "And if you are wise you'll be equally cautious." Anthony pulled his chair nearer. "I'm going to speak candidly," said he. "I've known you only for a few minutes, Mr. Magruder, but in that time you've shown me that you are a man of no great courage." "No," admitted Magruder, readily enough. "I am none of your brawlers." "Very good," said Anthony. "But, for all that habit of mind, you send me a letter which, according to your own view of it, has danger written across its very face." Magruder sucked in his thin lips; his fingers began plucking at a button on the sleeve of his coat. "There must have been an excellent reason for your venturing so much," said Anthony. "And that reason is, I think--money. For, from all I've heard of you aboard your own brig, you are a close trader, Mr. Magruder; your methods are careful; you are of the kind who think far, but hazard little." "I am none of your wasters," said the man. "It has been the custom of the firm of Rufus Stevens' Sons," said Anthony, "to carry outside moneys in certain of its business; and it comes to me that at some time or other you have adventured with them in a ship that's sailed, and met with misfortune." Magruder stopped plucking at the button; his hand went up in a trembling gesture, and his voice was sunk to almost a whisper as he said: "Yes, you are right. I have moneys in some of your uncle's transactions; and because I've seen loss looking at me, everywhere I turned, I sent for you. There are items in my ledger that a madman might have placed there. What have I, who have scraped and struggled all my life, to do with high-colored plans that only lead aboard a vessel that never comes to port? What have I, who believe in plain, sure business, to do with letters of marque and decks crowded with hectoring ruffians? On this very desk, a year ago," and here his voice lifted in thin bitterness, "I told down one thousand gold johannes for a venture to the slave coast. And not a single blackamoor has been sold to my account anywhere in the islands." "I'm sorry to hear this," said Anthony, "for it not only marks a serious loss to you, but it seems to show that Rufus Stevens' Sons is in shoal water." "It was a black day for his house when your grandfather died," said Magruder. "And it was a worse one when your Creole mother coaxed your father away to Louisiana, and so left the trade and ships of the firm in the hands of your uncle." Anthony looked perplexed. "In New Orleans," said he, "merchants speak of my uncle with something like awe. In Havana, Martinique, and St. Kitts I've heard shipmasters tell tales of his enterprises that were like romances. If my mind has been made up to any one thing, it is that my uncle is a very prince of merchants."