Captain c.h.i.n.ks looked up at the speaker, as if to entreat him to deal gently.

"Well, who gave him the bill?" demanded the squire, impatiently.

"The captain can tell you."

"How can he tell me? He didn't see the man. Why didn't you see him, captain?"

"I had something else to think of," replied the culprit, with the most woe-begone expression that ever darkened the face of man. "It's no use for me to try to beat to windward any more. I gave him the bill myself, Squire Gilfilian. That's the truth."

"You!" gasped the lawyer.

"I gave it to him."

"That can be proved, for Mr. Gordon identified him as he came off the steamer at Bar Harbor," added Mr. Brooks.

"I don't deny it," said the captain, meekly.

"But where did you get the bill?" asked the squire.

Captain c.h.i.n.ks did not answer immediately. It was too humiliating to tell the whole truth, and the lawyer seemed to be very slow to comprehend it.

"I had no more notion of opening that letter than I had of flying," he said, at last, after the squire had repeated his question.

"Did you open it?"

"I'll tell you just how it was; but, upon my word, I didn't mean to open it. Bobtail came into your office that day with the two letters in his hand, one for you and one for me. He gave me one of them, and I tore it open without looking at the address."

"Did I give you the wrong one?" asked the skipper.

"You did; and that was what made all the mischief," answered the captain, wishing to lessen his guilt if possible.

"I didn't know I gave you the wrong one. I had no reason for doing so. I put the other on the desk, as you told me to do," explained Bobtail.

"Yes; you tossed it on the desk, and it fell with the address down. You went out then, and I found the letter I had opened was for Squire Gilfilian, and had a five hundred dollar bill in it."

"There was no harm done even then," said the lawyer. "If you had given it to me and explained the mistake, it would have been all right."

"That's where I made my mistake, squire. I was afraid you would think I meant to steal your money, or pry into your business, and I put the letter into my pocket. It came from the bank robbers, and I didn't suppose you would believe any such letter had been sent to you."

"I didn't till the man identified the bill," replied the squire. "Mrs.

Taylor gave me the bill in the morning, and while I was writing her release, Mr. Slipwing came into the office. When the woman paid me the money, I couldn't help wondering where she got so large a bill.

Happening to think of her son's connection with the letter, it occurred to me that he had opened that letter. Slipwing described the bill before he saw it, so as fully to identify it. Of course I was entirely satisfied then that Bobtail had stolen the letter."

"I don't blame you for thinking so," said the skipper.

"It looked like a plain case; but it is singular how that bill came back to me. You went off to Mount Desert that day, Captain c.h.i.n.ks."

"Yes; I expected a lot of stuff from the provinces. I went to Bar Harbor, and bought the boat."

"And you paid the bill from the letter for the boat? Now, that brings up another question. The bill belonged to me, and I claim it. What Mrs.

Taylor paid me amounts to nothing."

"I don't believe you can make that go, Squire Gilfilian," said Mr.

Hines. "If I mistake not, there's a decision the other way."

"I shall try it, at any rate," added the squire.

"No, you needn't," interposed Captain c.h.i.n.ks. "I will make it good myself."

"That will settle the case," replied the squire, who knew that his client had the means to do so.

"If Mrs. Taylor must make good the loss to you, then Colonel Montague must make it good to her, and Mr. Gordon to the colonel. If the payment in stolen money was not legal, there was no sale of the boat, and she still belongs to Mr. Gordon," continued Mr. Hines. "In the mean time the government has seized her for violation of the revenue laws, and the case is decidedly mixed."

"I will pay the squire the five hundred dollars," added the smuggler.

"And lose your boat besides?" queried the squire.

"What's the use? You can't fight against the government. The custom-house officers have the boat and the stuff."

"What stuff?" asked the squire.

"A lot of brandy that I could have sold for over a thousand dollars, which didn't cost me four hundred. It would bring fifteen hundred at retail."

"O ho!" said the squire, opening his eyes.

"I'm caught, and I may as well make the best of it. I used to think this sort of business paid, but I don't think so now. I shall lose my boat, the money I paid for the stuff, and have to pay a fine of a thousand dollars besides. That makes me about two thousand out--half of all I'm worth, besides my farm; and all because Little Bobtail wouldn't make a trade with me. I as good as offered to give him the boat, if he would return the stuff; and I reckon he'll wish he had when you take the boat away from him, for he has been making money with her."

"No, he won't," said Mr. Hines, decidedly. "He gave the information that led to the seizure of the goods, and his share of the fine and forfeiture will be at least five hundred dollars, and he can buy the boat."

"Is that so?" exclaimed the skipper, opening his eyes. "I had no idea I was to make anything out of this business. But I am in love with this boat; and if I get her, I shall be the happiest fellow on Pen.o.bscot Bay."

"You will have her; and we'll manage it so that you shall have the use of her till she is sold," added Mr. Hines.

Captain c.h.i.n.ks was no longer a man of doubtful reputation. His contraband operations were capable of proof without his confession, and his reputation as a dishonest man was now fully established. The Skylark arrived at Rockland in a couple of hours. The United States deputy marshal arrested Captain c.h.i.n.ks; but he was liberated on bail furnished by Squire Gilfilian. The Skylark was seized, and Mr. Hines appointed keeper; and, on his own responsibility, he permitted Bobtail to have the use of her.

The detective had fully sifted the captain's method of operating. He was in company with a "Blue Nose" fisherman, who used to run the goods down to the coast of Maine, where his partner took them into his boat, usually in the night, or under the lee of some uninhabited island.

Another lot was on its way, but the captain concluded to have them properly entered, and paid the duties.

When Bobtail returned from the custom-house in Rockland to the Skylark, he found Mr. Tom Barkesdale on board of her, waiting for him. This gentleman had come down to Camden in the steamer, and finding that the boy had gone to Rockland, he obtained a team, and drove to that place, where he found the Skylark at the wharf. Monkey did not know where the skipper had gone; but he soon appeared with all his pa.s.sengers, for the business had not detained them more than an hour. But Mr. Barkesdale was not inclined to "tell him all" in the presence of so many persons. He finally, after much persuasion, induced Bobtail to return with him in his buggy, while Mr. Hines sailed the Skylark back to Camden. Nothing but the a.s.surance that the business was of the utmost importance could prevail upon the skipper to leave the yacht; and much he wondered what that business could be. They walked up to the hotel together, but, as yet, Mr. Barkesdale said nothing.

"I think you have worn that bobtail coat about long enough," said the gentleman, when they came to Main Street.

"I have a better suit at home."

"What color is it?"

"Blue, sir."