ry: "`If Mr Frederick
Martin will c-call at this office any day next week between 10 an' 12,
h-he will 'ear suthin' to his ad-advantage. Bounce and Brag,
s'licitors.' There!"

"But _you_ ain't Fred Martin," said Bryce, with a look of supreme
contempt, for he had arrived at the quarrelsome stage of drunkenness.

"Right you are," said Martin; "but I'm his uncle. Same name c-'cause
his mother m-married her c-cousin; and there ain't much difference
'tween Dick and Fred--four letters, both of 'em--so if I goes wi' the
letter, an' says, `I'm Fred Martin,' w'y, they'll hand over the blunt,
or the jewels, or wotiver it is, to me--d'ee see?"

"No, I don't see," returned Bryce so irritatingly that his comrade left
the confidential stage astern, and requested to know, with an affable
air, when Bryce lost his eyesight.

"When I first saw _you_, and thought you worth your salt," shouted
Bryce, as he brought his fist heavily down on the table.

Both men were passionate. They sprang up, grappled each other by the
throat, and fell on the floor. In doing so they let the letter fall.
It fluttered to the ground, and Lockley, quietly picking it up, put it
in his pocket.

"You'd better look after them," said Lockley to the landlord, as he paid
his reckoning, and went out.

In a few minutes he stood in Widow Mooney's hut, and found Isa Wentworth
already there.

"I'm glad you sent me here," said the girl, "for Mrs Mooney has gone
out--"

She stopped and looked earnestly in Lockley's face. "You've been to the
Blue Boar," she said in a serious tone.

"Yes, lass, I have," admitted the skipper, but without a touch of
resentment. "I did not mean to go, but it's as well that I did, for
I've rescued a letter from Dick Martin which seems to be of some
importance, an' he says he stole it from his sister's house."

He handed the letter to the girl, who at once recognised it as the
epistle over which she and Mrs Martin had puzzled so much, and which
had finally been deciphered for them by Dick Martin.

"He must have made up his mind to pretend that he is Fred," said Isa,
"and so get anything that was intended for him."

"You're a sharp girl, Isa; you've hit the nail fair on the head, for I
heard him in his drunken swagger boast of his intention to do that very
thing. Now, will you take in hand, lass, to give the letter back to
Mrs Martin, and explain how you came by it?"

Of course Isa agreed to do so, and Lockley, turning to E