“I’ll do it!” cried Captain Plum.  He jumped to his feet and held out his hand.  But the old man slipped from his chair and darted swiftly out into the blackness of the adjoining room.  As he came back Captain Plum could hear his insane chuckling.

“Business—­business—­business—­” he gurgled.  “Eh, Captain Plum?  Did you ever take an oath?” He tossed a book on the table.  It was the Bible.

Captain Plum understood.  He reached for the book and held it under his left hand.  His right he lifted above his head, while a smile played about his lips.

“I suppose you want to place me under oath to deliver that package,” he said.

The old man nodded.  His eyes gleamed with a feverish glare.  A sudden hectic flush had gathered in his death-like cheeks.  He trembled.  His voice rose barely above a whisper.

“Repeat,” he commanded.  “I, Captain Nathaniel Plum, do solemnly swear before God—­”

A thrilling inspiration shot into Captain Plum’s brain.

“Hold!” he cried.  He lowered his hand.  With something that was almost a snarl the old man sprang back, his hands clenched.  “I will take this oath upon one other consideration,” continued Captain Plum.  “I came to Beaver Island to see something of the life and something of the people of St. James.  If you, in turn, will swear to show me as much as you can to-night I will take the oath.”

The old man was beside the table again in an instant.

“I will show it to you—­all—­all—­” he exclaimed excitedly.  “I will show it to you—­yes, and swear to it upon the body of Christ!”

Captain Plum lifted his hand again and word by word repeated the oath.  When it was done the other took his place.

“Your name?” asked Captain Plum.

A change scarcely perceptible swept over the old man’s face.

“Obadiah Price.”

“But you are a Mormon.  You have the Bible there?”

Again the old man disappeared into the adjoining room.  When he returned he placed two books side by side and stood them on edge so that he might clasp both between his bony fingers.  One was the Bible, the other the Book of the Mormons.  In a cracked, excited voice he repeated the strenuous oath improvised by Captain Plum.

“Now,” said Captain Plum, distributing the gold pieces among his pockets, “I’ll take that package.”

This time the old man was gone for several minutes.  When he returned he placed a small package tightly bound and sealed into his companion’s hand.

“More precious than your life, more priceless than gold,” he whispered tensely, “yet worthless to all but the one to whom it is to be delivered.”

There were no marks on the package.

“And who is that?” asked Captain Plum.

The old man came so close that his breath fell hot upon the young man’s cheek.  He lifted a hand as though to ward sound from the very walls that closed them in.