Give
the new trunk my mark, as the chief has already read the name on the
trunk. Go, Quin; I rely on you."
"You can trust me, my boy," retorted Quin cheerfully, and turning on
his heel, he was back on the wharf in a moment, and apparently busy
about the pile of baggage.
Suddenly there came a mighty uproar aboard ship. Lorns and the Swiss,
the latter already irate over some trouble he had experienced, were
rolling about the deck in a most violent scrimmage, the Swiss having
decidedly the worst of the trouble. The chief rushed up the plank;
Lorns and the descendant of Tell and Winkelried, were torn apart; and
then a double din of explanation ensued. After ten minutes, the chief
was able to straighten out the difficulty--whatever its pretended
cause might be I know not; for I held myself warily aloof, not a
little alarmed by what Lorns had communicated--and repaired again to
his station upon the wharf. As he came down the plank, Quin, who had
not been a moment behind him in going aboard to discover the reasons
of the riot, followed. Brief as was that moment, however, during which
Quin had lingered behind, he had made the shift suggested by Lorns;
the silk trunk was under the river, a strange trunk stood in its
stead. As the chief returned, he walked straight to this suspected
trunk and tipped it down with his foot.
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