ast
trunk where it stood on end, a bit drawn out and separated from that
common mountain of baggage wherewith the wharf was piled. One of the
general inspectors, a man I had never seen but whom I knew, by virtue
of his rank, to be superior to our chalk-wielding coparcener, Lorns,
also paced the wharf and appeared to bear me company in a distant,
non-communicative way. This customs captain and myself, save for an
under inspector named Quin, had the dock to ourselves. The boat was
long in and most land folk had gotten through their concern with her
and wended homeward long before. There were, however, many passengers
of emigrant sort still held aboard the ship.

As I marched up and down, Lorns came ashore and pretended some
business with his superior officer. As he returned to the ship and
what duties he had still to perform there, he made a slight signal to
both myself and his fellow inspector, Quin, to follow him. I was well
known to Lorns, having had several talks with him, while Harris was
abroad. Quin I had never met; but it quickly appeared that he was a
confidant of Lorns, and while without a money interest in our affairs
was ready to bear a helping hand should a situation commence to pinch.

Quin and I went severally and withal carelessly aboard ship, and not
at all as though we were seeking Lorns. This was to darken the chief,
who was not in our secrets and whom we both surmised to be the cause
of Lorns' signal.

Once aboard, and gathered in a dark corner, Lorns began at once:

"Let me do the talking," said Lorns with a nervous rapidity that at
once enlisted the ears of Quin and myself. "Don't interrupt, but
listen. The chief suspects that last trunk. I can tell it by the way
he acts. A bit later, when I come ashore, he'll ask to have it
opened. Should he do so, we're gone; you and I." This last was to me.
Then to Quin: "Do you see that tall lean Swiss, with the long boots
and porcelain pipe? He's in an ugly mood, doesn't speak English, and
within one minute after you return to the wharf, he and I will be
entangled in a rough and tumble riot. I'll attend to that. The row
will be prodigious. The chief will be sent for to settle the war, and
when he leaves the wharf, Quin, don't wait; seize on that silk trunk
and throw it into the river. There's iron enough clamped about the
corners to sink it; besides, it's packed so tightly it's as heavy as
lead, and will go to the bottom like an anvil. Then from the pile pul