Excerpt: ... are delaying Mr. Cooke." The chief was seized with a nervous tremor. I think we were a pair in that, only I managed to keep mine, under. When it came to the point, and any bribing was to be done, I had hit upon a course. Self-respect demanded a dignity on my part. With a painful indecision McCann pulled a paper from his pocket which I ...Read MoreExcerpt: ... are delaying Mr. Cooke." The chief was seized with a nervous tremor. I think we were a pair in that, only I managed to keep mine, under. When it came to the point, and any bribing was to be done, I had hit upon a course. Self-respect demanded a dignity on my part. With a painful indecision McCann pulled a paper from his pocket which I saw was a warrant. And he dropped his cigar. Mr. Cooke was quick to give him another. "Ye come from Bear Island, Mr. Crocker?" he inquired. I replied in the affirmative. "I hope it's news I'm telling you," he said soberly; "I'm hoping it's news when I say that I'm here for Mr. Charles Wrexell Allen, -that's the gentleman's name. He's after taking a hundred thousand dollars away from Boston." Then he turned to Mr. Cooke. "The gentleman was aboard your boat, sir, when you left that country place of yours, -what d'ye call it? -Mohair? Thank you, sir." And he wiped the water from his brow. "And they're telling me he was on Bear Island with ye? Sure, sir, and I can't see why a gentleman of your standing would be wanting to get him over the border. But I must do my duty. Begging your pardon, Mr. Crocker," he added, with a bow to me. "Certainly, McCann," I said. For a space there was only the bumping and straining of the yacht and the swish of the water against her sides. Then the chief spoke again. "It will be saving you both trouble and inconvenience, Mr. Crocker, if you give him up, sir." What did the man mean? Why in the name of the law didn't he make a move? I was conscious that my client was fumbling in his clothes for the wallet; that he had muttered an invitation for the chief to go inside. McCann smoked uneasily. "I don't want to search the boat, sir." At these words we all turned with one accord towards the cabin. I felt Farrar gripping my arm tightly from behind. The Celebrity had disappeared! It was Mr. Cooke who spoke. "Search the boat!" he said, something between a laugh and a cry. "Yes, sir," the chief...Read Less
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