“Oh, isn’t there?” he said. “But there soon will be if yer get meddling ’ere again,” and with one swiftly-searching and darkly-suspicious glance at my face he fell to examining the letters, and, as I could see by the movement of his lips, counting them one by one to see that none was missing. My heart, I must confess, jumped a bit when he came to the forgery with which I had replaced the letter I had abstracted. But the result was apparently satisfactory, for he put the packet back upon the rack without further comment and took up the discarded shaving brush to continue his task. I did not feel at the best of ease when, after the customer had paid and departed, a surly “Now then!” summoned me to the operating chair, for it was not altogether reassuring to have a razor, in the grip of such a ruffian, at one’s throat. But, though the shave was accomplished with none too light a hand, and the scoundrel drew blood by the probably intentional and malicious way in which he rasped my somewhat tender skin, he did me no serious injury, and it was not long before I was back at the hotel and engaged in opening the abstracted letter. There were two documents inside, the first of which was addressed to Jeanes in Mrs. Stanley Burgoyne’s handwriting, and ran as follows:-- “JAMES,--We are glad to have your promise, and will carry out our part of the contract faithfully. We shall remain here as you direct until you telegraph the word ‘Come,’ when we shall start for England at once, and you can count on the yacht being at the place you mention within four days and ready to start again at a few hours’ notice. We shall be just off the boat-builder’s yard where our little yacht is laid up. “I do _not_ see any necessity for doing as you say in regard to sending the present crew back to England under the pretence that we are not likely to be using the yacht for some time, and then, after getting the ship’s appearance altered by repainting and rechristening her the name you mention, engaging another crew of Norwegians. “This seems to me a very unnecessary precaution. Your connection with us is never likely to be discovered, unless by your own confession. However, I suppose you know best, and we will do as you say. “F.” The other letter was on a half-sheet of notepaper, and in the handwriting of the barber at Cotley. Here it is:-- “RESPECTED SIR,--Mr. Green has not called since I last wrote you. But a person named Smithers came and asked questions. I did not like the look of him and would not tell him anything, but said I did not know any Mr. Jeanes.--Respectfully, “JAMES DORLEY. “P. S.--Smithers smelt of rum. He had been drinking. He was a low-looking man, and I did not like his eye.”