"Me, too," growled the sailor, grasping his glass. "I'm here on what you'd call a visit, but I go back to my home to-morrow. Then it's ho for Callao," he shouted in a sing-song voice. Hurd knew the fierce old chanty and sized Captain Jarvey up at once. He was of the buccaneer type, and there was little he would not do to make money and have a roaring time. Failing Hokar, with his deadly handkerchief, here was the man who might have killed Aaron Norman. "Drink up," shouted Hurd in his turn, "we'll have some more. "On no condition, is extradition, Allowed in Callao." "Gum," said Captain Jessop, "you know the chanty." Hurd winked. "I've bin round about in my time." Jessop stretched out a huge hand. "Put it there, mate," said he, with a roar like a fog-horn, "and drink up along o' me. My treat." Hurd nodded and became jovial. "On condition you join me at dinner. They make good curries here." "I've had curry," said Captain Jessop, heavily, "in Colombo and Hong-Kong frequent, but Hokar's curries are the best." "Ah!" said Hurd in a friendly curious way, "so you know this shanty?" Jessop looked at him with contempt. "Know this shanty," said he, with a grin, "why, in coorse, I do. I've been swinging my hammock here time in and out for the last thirty year." "You'll be a Christchurch man, then?" "Not me, mate. I'm Buckinghamshire. Stowley born." Hurd with difficulty suppressed a start. Stowley was the place where the all-important brooch had been pawned by a nautical man, and here was the man in question. "I should have thought you'd lived near the sea," he said cautiously, "say Southampton." "Oh, I used t'go there for my ship," said the captain, draining his glass, "but I don't go there no more." "Retired, eh?" Jessop nodded and looked at his friend--as he considered Hurd, since the invitation to dinner--with a blood-shot pair of eyes. "Come storm, come calm," he growled, "I've sailed the ocean for forty years. Yes, sir, you bet. I was a slip of a fifteen cabin-boy on my first cruise, and then I got on to being skipper. Lord," Jessop smacked his knee, "the things I've seen!" "We'll have them to-night after dinner," said Hurd, nodding; "but now, I suppose, you've made your fortune." "No," said the captain, gloomily, "not what you'd call money. I've got a stand-by, though," and he winked. "Ah! Married to a rich wife?" "Not me. I've had enough of marriage, having been the skipper of a mermaid with a tongue. No, sir," he roared out another line of some song floating in his muzzy head, "a saucy bachelor am I," then changed to gruff talk, "and I intends being one all my days. Stand-by, I have--t'ain't a wife, but I can draw the money regular, and no questions asked." Again he winked and drank another glass.