"It isn't for me to say that you did, for you know better than I do; but you will pardon me if I say that the evidence points in this direction. Hasbrook has been over to Belfast several times to work up his case. The last time I saw him he was looking for Don John, who, I am afraid, is rather leaky." In spite of his bluff manners, Laud saw that the captain was not a little startled by the information just imparted. "The miserable little psalm-singer," growled the strange man, walking the room, muttering to himself. "If he disobeys my orders, I'll thrash him worse than--Hasbrook was thrashed." "It is unpleasant to be suspected of a crime, and revolting to the instincts of a gentleman," added Laud. "Do you mean to say that I am suspected of a crime, you long-eared puppy?" yelled the captain. "I beg your pardon, Captain Shivernock, but it isn't agreeable to a gentleman to be called by such opprobrious names," said Laud, rising from his chair, and taking his round-top hat from the table. "I am willing to leave you, but not to be insulted." Laud looked like the very impersonation of dignity itself, as he walked towards the door. "Stop!" yelled the captain. "I do not know that any one but Hasbrook suspects you of a crime," Laud explained. "I'm glad he does suspect me," added the strange man, more gently. "Whoever did that job served him just right, and I envy the man that did it." "Still, it is unpleasant to be suspected of a crime." "It wasn't a crime." "People call it so; but I sympathize with you, for like you I am suspected of a crime, of which, like yourself, I am innocent." "Are you, indeed? And what may your crime be, Mr. Cavendish?" "It is in this connection that I wish to state my particular business with you." "Go on and state it, and don't be all night about it." "I may add that I also came to warn you against the movements of Hasbrook. I will begin at the beginning." "Begin, then; and don't go round Cape Horn in doing it," snarled the captain. "I will, sir. Captain Patterdale--" "Another miserable psalm-singer. Is he in the scrape?" "He is, sir. He has lost a tin box, which contained nearly fourteen hundred dollars in cash, besides many valuable papers." "I'm glad of it; and I hope he never will find it," was the kindly expression of the eccentric nabob for the Christian nabob. "Was the box lost or stolen?" "Stolen, sir." "So much the better. I hope the thief will never be discovered." Laud did not say how he happened to know that the tin box had been stolen, for Captain Patterdale, the deputy sheriff, and Nellie were supposed to be the only persons who had any knowledge of the fact. "It appears that in this tin box there was a certain fifty-dollar bill, which had been torn into four parts, and mended by pasting two strips of paper upon it, one extending from right to left, and the other from top to bottom, on the back." "Eh?" interposed the wicked nabob. "Wait a minute."