"That's it," said he. "I don't know how you come by it, but that's it. Higginson was lost with the Cotton Mather in a storm on his way back to New Bedford, and a lucky chance for me I wasn't aboard. A good while afterwards a fisherman off of this here Island picked up the map at sea in a bottle, and I got it off'n him; he squealed a good bit when I stuck him, but I got it, right enough. And then along comes Mizzen, me being in hiding, and I sold it to him for a set of false whiskers and a tattoo-needle." "Yes, yes," said Freddie eagerly. "Mr. Mizzen told me about it." "When Higginson sailed away from here in the Cotton Mather, I didn't go with him. I ran away. Ay, a runaway sailor, that's what I am. I liked the Spanish Main, and I didn't like Higginson; nor yet he didn't like me, neither. But before he sailed, I left my mark on him, I did; four of his teeth out and a black eye; and I won't say but what he broke my nose for me too, right enough. For a Quaker, he hit pretty good. And I stole this bit of writing from him; probably it ain't no account, but Higginson he seemed to set great store by it, so I stole it, and here it is." He took from his pocket a sheet of folded paper and laid it on the table beside the map; it was much soiled, and was evidently very old. He sniffed the air once or twice, and frowned. "I don't like this here smell. It's no good. I say I don't like it. It makes me feel queer. Well, I guess the old man thought this here bit of writing was safe in his locker right up to the last; I expect he never missed it until he went to put it into the bottle with the map and throw it overboard." He shook the paper in his hand and dropped it again on the table. "And then," he went on, "I fell in with Lingo, and joined his crew." "Look here," said Toby, "how long ago was all this?" "How do I know?" said Speak. "I've been shut up in that there cupboard so long I ain't got no account of time. But I remember just before we sailed from New Bedford there was a lot of crazy people talkin' about getting up a fight with England and breakin' loose from her, and being free and independent and what not--a great pack of foolish nonsense--and something or other about some kind of a tea-party in Boston--I dunno. I ain't never heard what come of it. Most likely nothin' at all. I guess it must have been a good while ago. I dunno." The Churchwarden started, and put his hand to his back pocket. "Are you as old as that?" said he. "No older nor what you be, old fat-chaps," said Speak. "You attend to your own age, and I'll attend to mine." "Never mind," said the Third Vice-President, hastily. "Pray tell us how you came to be locked up in that closet."