“That’s just as you state, sir.  I was sorry to miss you, but, my time being valuable, I had to get back to Pierside.  Failing you, I later came to see the Professor here, and told him what I had discovered.”

“You merely discovered a mare’s nest,” said Random contemptuously; “but this is not the point.  I believe that you, and you only, could have hidden that manuscript among my books, intending that it should be discovered, so that I might be implicated in this crime.”

“Did your flunky tell you that much?” inquired Hervey coolly.

“My servant told me nothing, save that you had been in my room, where you had no right to be.”

“Then,” said the American quietly and decisively, “I can’t see, sir, how you can place the ticket on me.”

“You accuse me, so why should I not accuse you?” retorted Random.

“Because you are guilty, and I ain’t,” snapped the American.

“You join issue:  you join issue,” murmured Braddock, rubbing his hands.

Random took no notice of the interruption.

“I have heard from Mr. Hope and Professor Braddock of the grounds upon which you base your accusation, and I have explained to them how I came to be on board your ship and both in and out of the Sailor’s Rest.”

“And the explanation is quite satisfactory,” said Hope smartly.

“I agree,” Donna Inez nodded with very bright eyes.  “Sir Frank has explained to me also.  He knew nothing of the manuscript.”

“And you, sir,” said Don Pedro quietly to Captain Hervey, “apparently did, since you stole it along with the mummy from Lima.”

“I confess the theft, but I didn’t know what the manuscript contained,” said the skipper dryly, “or I reckon you wouldn’t have to ask who stole the emeralds.  No, sir, I should have looted them.”

“I believe you did, and murdered Bolton,” cried Random hotly.

“Shucks!” retorted Hervey, rising with a shrug, “if I had wished to get rid of Bolton, I’d have yanked him overboard and then would have written `accident’ in my blamed log-book.”

Braddock looked at Don Pedro, and Archie at Sir Frank.  What the skipper said was plausible enough.  No man would have been such a fool as to have murdered Bolton ashore, when he could have done so without suspicion on board the tramp.  Moreover, Hervey spoke with genuine regret, since he had missed the emeralds and assuredly would not have hesitated to steal them even at the cost of Bolton’s life, had he known of their whereabouts.  So far he had made a good defense, and, seeing the impression produced, he strolled to the door.  There he halted.

“If you gents want to lynch me,” he said leisurely, “I’ll be found at the Sailor’s Rest for the next week.  Then I’m going as skipper of The Firefly steamer, Port o’ London, to Algiers.  You can send the sheriff along whenever you choose.  But I mean to have my picnic first, and to-morrow I’m going to Inspector Date with my yarn.  Then I guess that almighty aristocrat wilt find himself in quod.”