ricked by any hallucination. I had not even been thinking
of the fellow at the time. And I was sure that the cook's assistant
aboard the Peveril had not seen and recognized me.

But I could not be mistaken in my identification of that face at the
port. It was that of my cousin, Paul Downes--Paul Downes, here on the de
la Plata, thousands of miles from home, and evidently working in the
menial position of cook's helper on the steamship, Peveril! Is it to be
wondered that I was amazed?

CHAPTER XXIII

IN WHICH I BEGIN TO WONDER "IS IT ME, OR IS IT NOT ME?"

I had told nobody aboard the Scarboro the particulars of my home-life,
or the incidents leading to my being swept out to sea in the
Wavecrest. Had Ben Gibson been my mate in the crew instead of holding
the position of second officer, undoubtedly he would have had my full
confidence. As things stood, I had no desire to take either Ben or the
old sailor into closer communion with my thoughts.

The great steamship passed us and swept up the Silver River, leaving the
Wavecrest far behind. She would reach Buenos Ayres fully twenty-four
hours before the sloop could make that port. But this delay did not
trouble me at the time. I wanted to think the situation over, anyway.

At the start I was pretty sure that Paul Downes had not come down here
on my account. He wasn't looking for me. Nor did it seem that he had
left home under very favorable circumstances. Otherwise he would not be
peeling vegetables for the cook of the Peveril.

After the first confusion passed from my mind I could pretty easily
figure out the probable incidents that had brought my cousin down here.
I knew about how long it had taken the steamship to voyage from her home
port. Had my letters been delivered in Bolderhead within reasonable
time, my mother and Ham, and the others must have been aware of the
explanation of my absence a week or two previous to the sailing of the
Peveril from Boston.

I had told Mr. Hounsditch, our lawyer, the whole truth about my sloop
being swept away; I had likewise advised Ham Mayberry to gather what
evidence he could against my cousin and those who had helped him commit
the outrage that had placed me in such peril. It was a cinch that Paul
had got wind of these discoveries, had been fearful of being arrested
for his part in the crime, and had run away from home.

In doing so, too, it was evident that his father, Mr. Chester Downes,
had not been a party to hi