“I believe he tampered with that letter,” he said to himself. “He took out my written sheets, and substituted these blanks. He is shrewder than I thought him to be.” “Well, lieutenant, what are you going to do about it?” asked the adjutant’s assistant. “I’ve got to be going inside of ten minutes.” “I’ll hunt up my letter--if I can,” burst out Gilbert; and, thrusting the empty envelope in his pocket, he hurried off. He was thoroughly angry, and bent on hunting up Nuggy Polk and having it out with the young man. He had seen Nuggy at the stern of the transport, smoking, and had no doubt that he would still find the young man there. But, half-way on his rapid walk toward the stern, Gilbert came to a sudden halt. What if Polk should deny everything, and what if the rascal had destroyed the written pages? He could not prove the young man guilty, and such an action would only let Polk know that he had discovered the deception. Would it not be better to let the fellow imagine that his plan to outwit his opponent had proved successful? “I’ll let him rest, and write another letter in secret--and take good care that that goes,” said Gilbert to himself. “And in the second letter I’ll tell Branders how the first letter was stolen, and that he must be on his guard against the Polks and anybody who represents them.” With Gilbert to think was to act, in this case; and, without losing a second more, he rushed off to one of the desks in the ship’s library, secured several sheets of paper and a pen, and dashed off a second letter to Ralph Branders with all speed. It was easy work, for he remembered exactly what he had said in the first letter; and the young lieutenant had always been a rapid penman. He added to the epistle his suspicions concerning Nuggy Polk, and wound up by assuring Branders that he was certain there was a good deal of money coming to him, if only the truth of the matter could be unearthed. The letter was finished not a second too soon; for Gilbert had barely time in which to hand it to the adjutant’s assistant when the latter was off, to catch the United States mail from Nagasaki. “Made quick work of it, I see,” remarked Peters, as he stuffed the letter into one of his bags. “I had to,” answered Gilbert. “I wouldn’t have missed this mail for a good deal.” The young lieutenant hurried away, not wishing to be seen by Nuggy Polk. His duties soon took him to the stern; and there he found the young man, still smoking, in company with Jerry Nickerson. “Ah! lieutenant,” cried Nuggy, as he drew closer. “We were just wondering how long it would be before we would start for Taku. Have you any idea?” “The commander is waiting only for some additional despatches,” answered Gilbert, coldly. “Then we are to leave Nagasaki as soon as he gets them?” “So I have been informed.” “I am glad of it. I don’t like this hot hole at all,” growled Nickerson. “It’s worse than Manila.” “I reckon you’ll find China hotter still,” said Gilbert.