u can do what you like with me; but
I will make it hot for some of you before you see the end of this
business," said Buckner, doggedly. "I'm a poor man, but I'm not to be
trodden on, any more than a nigger is!"

By this time the crowd had scattered to make a search in the holes and
in the water for the missing package.

"What were you doing in the saloon?" asked the messenger, in a mild
tone.

"I went in there to see if I could find a man to help me take up a
couple of trunks to the St. James," replied Buckner. "I looked into the
nigger bar, and then came out. I saw there was a man at the front bar;
but I took no notice of him, and didn't see any package."

"Before you had reached the door, this young man had jumped over the
counter, and was chasing you. He was sure you had taken the package;
and no one else could have taken it," added Peverell, warming up again.

"But I didn't take it, and that's all I have to say about it," answered
Buckner, decidedly.

"I saw him take it!" repeated Nick, with emphasis. "He must have thrown
it into the river."

The policeman led his prisoner away to the lockup, while all the rest
of us followed up the search for half an hour. The messenger said the
bills were done up between two tin slabs of the size of the notes, and
inclosed in brown paper. Some searched on the pier, and some went out
in boats,--but no package could be found. The search was given up, and
I went back to the saloon with Nick and Peverell.

Captain Boomsby's son told his father all about the affair from
beginning to end. He was putting the whiskey-bottle back into its place
under the counter, when he heard Buckner's step as he approached the
front door. He looked up, saw that the package was gone, and that the
departing visitor had it. "That was all he knew about it."

"But you said you saw Buckner take it," said Peverell.

"I saw him take it out of the saloon," replied Nick.

The circumstances pointed very strongly, to say the least, to Buckner
as the guilty one. I had learned all I wanted to know, and was trying
to say good-by to Captain Boomsby, when Peeks, the steward of the
Sylvania, came into the saloon with a telegraphic dispatch in his hand.

CHAPTER III.

ADIEU TO THE BOOMSBYS.

Mr. Peverell, the bank messenger, called at the saloon on his way back.
Doubtless he was not a little concerned about meeting the officers of
the bank, after the loss of so large a sum of money. By this time t