"McCann," said I, "what made you come back to-day?"
"Faith, Mr. Crocker, I don't care if I am telling you. I always had a
liking for you, sir, and bechune you and me it was that divil O'Meara
what made all the trouble. I wasn't taking his money, not me; the saints
forbid! But glory be to God, if he didn't raise a rumpus whin I come
back without Allen! It was sure he was that the gent left that place,
--what are ye calling it?--Mohair, in the Maria, and we telegraphs over to
Asquith. He swore I'd lose me job if I didn't fetch him to-day. Mr.
Crocker, sir, it's the lumber business I'll be startin' next week," said
McCann.
"Don't let that worry you, McCann," I answered. "I will see that you
don't lose your place, and I give you my word again that Charles Wrexell
Allen has never been aboard this yacht, or at Mohair to my knowledge.
What is more, I will prove it to-morrow to your satisfaction."
McCann's faith was touching.
"Ye're not to say another word, sir," he said, and he stuck out his big
hand, which I grasped warmly.
My affection for McCann still remains a strong one.
After my talk with McCann I was sitting on the forecastle propped against
the bitts of the Maria's anchor-chain, and looking at the swirling foam
cast up by the tug's propeller. There were many things I wished to turn
over in my mind just then, but I had not long been in a state of reverie
when I became conscious that Miss Thorn was standing beside me.
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