"
"No, I haven't," said Larcher.
"Jes' think it over. You can put two and two together, can't you? A new
outfit o' clo'es, first of all. Then a stock o' provisions. To make it
easier, I'll tell yuh this much: they was the kind o' provisions people
take on yachts, an' he even admitted to the salesman they was for that
purpose. And then South Street--the wharves; does that mean ships? Does
the whole business mean a voyage? But a man don't have to stock up extry
food if he's goin' by any regular steamer line, does he? What fur, then?
And what kind o' ships lays off South Street? Sailin' ships; them that
goes to South America, an' Asia, and the South Seas, and God knows where
all. Now do you think you can guess?"
"But why would he put his things in a hallway?" queried Larcher.
"To wait fur the boat that was to take 'em out to the vessel late at
night. Why did he wait fur dark to be druv down there? You bet, he was
makin' his flittin' as silent as possible. He'd prob'ly squared it with
a skipper to take 'im aboard on the dead quiet. That's why there ain't
much use our knowin' what vessels sailed about that time. I _do_ know,
but much good we'll get out o' that. What port he gets off at, who'll
ever tell? It'll be sure to be in a country where we ain't got no
extradition treaty. And when this particular captain shows up again at
this port, innocent enough _he'll_ be; _he_ never took no passenger
aboard in the night, an' put 'im off somewheres below the 'quator.
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