"Hell is up, and fizzling," replied Smith. "I've had word from Peter Cartwright that you'll be arrested in the mornin' if you don't skin out. It's the admiral. I wish I'd never set eyes on him. Come, dress and skip: 'twon't do for you to be gaoled; mebbe they'd hold you on some charge till you forgot all you owe to me. There ain't no such thing as real gratitude left on earth." Billy rose and shuffled into his clothes sullenly enough. "And where am I to skip to?" "To Portland," said Smith; "the _Mendocino_ leaves in the mornin' for Crescent City and Astoria, don't she? Well, then, go with her and lie up with Grant or Sullivan in Portland till I let you know the coast is clear. And here's twenty dollars: go easy with it." He sighed to part with the money. "I'd sooner go down to Los Angeles," grunted Billy. But Smith explained to him with urgent and explosive blasphemy that he was to get into another State in order to complicate legal matters. "You've the brains of a Flathead Indian, you have," said Smith, as he turned Billy into the street on his way to find the _Mendocino_. "What's the use of havin' law if you don't use it?" And in the morning, when Smith heard that ten runners at least had been urgently invited to interview Mr. Peter Cartwright, he was glad to be able to declare that Billy was not on hand. "He's gone East to see his old man," he said drily. "And as his father is a millionaire and lives in the Fifth Avenue, N' York, he couldn't afford to disregard his dyin' desire to see him." "You are a daisy, Smith," said the police officer who had come for Billy. "Between you and me, what have you done with him?" Smith shook his head. "I shot him last night and cut him up and pickled him in a cask," he said with a wink. "And I've shipped him to the British Ambassador at Washington, C.O.D." "You're as close as a clam, ain't you, Smith? But I tell you Peter is havin' a picnic. This admiral's game was playin' it low down on Peter, whoever did it. There are times when a man can't help his friends." Smith lied freely. "You can tell Peter I had nothin' to do with it." "Yes, I can _tell_ him!" said the police officer. And he did tell him. As a result the chief of police wrote to the admiral:-- "SIR,-- "I have interrogated all the runners but one belonging to the chief boarding-houses, and have succeeded in obtaining no clue. The one man missing was runner to Mr. William Smith, commonly known as 'Shanghai' Smith. Under the circumstances, and considering what you said to me, I am inclined to wait developments. If you will inform me what you wish me to do, I shall be glad to accommodate you in any way." "Yours truly, "PETER CARTWRIGHT. "P.S.--If you could write me a letter saying you are quite satisfied with the steps I have taken to bring the offender to justice, I should be obliged.