My heart stood still.  Did he know, I wondered, and was this all a roundabout way of telling me he knew?

“The professor may be a member of an Anarchist League, or something, and this is his punishment for refusing to assassinate some sportsman.”

“Have another cup of tea, Tom, and stop talking nonsense.”

Mr. Chase handed in his cup.

“What gave me the idea that the upset was done on purpose was this.  I saw the whole thing from the Ware Cliff.  The spill looked to me just like dozens I had seen at Malta.”

“Why do they upset themselves on purpose at Malta particularly?” inquired Phyllis.

“Listen carefully, my dear, and you’ll know more about the ways of the Navy that guards your coasts than you did before.  When men are allowed on shore at Malta, the owner has a fancy to see them snugly on board again at a certain reasonable hour.  After that hour any Maltese policeman who brings them aboard gets one sovereign, cash.  But he has to do all the bringing part of it on his own.  Consequence is, you see boats rowing out to the ship, carrying men who have overstayed their leave; and when they get near enough, the able-bodied gentleman in custody jumps to his feet, upsets the boat, and swims for the gangway.  The policemen, if they aren’t drowned—­they sometimes are—­race him, and whichever gets there first wins.  If it’s the policeman, he gets his sovereign.  If it’s the sailor, he is considered to have arrived not in a state of custody and gets off easier.  What a judicious remark that was of the governor of North Carolina to the governor of South Carolina, respecting the length of time between drinks.  Just one more cup, please, Phyllis.”

“But how does all that apply?” I asked, dry-mouthed.

“Mr. Hawk upset the professor just as those Maltese were upset.  There’s a patent way of doing it.  Furthermore, by judicious questioning, I found that Hawk was once in the Navy, and stationed at Malta. Now, who’s going to drag in Sherlock Holmes?”

“You don’t really think—?” I said, feeling like a criminal in the dock when the case is going against him.

“I think friend Hawk has been re-enacting the joys of his vanished youth, so to speak.”

“He ought to be prosecuted,” said Phyllis, blazing with indignation.

Alas, poor Hawk!

“Nobody’s safe with a man of that sort, hiring out a boat.”  Oh, miserable Hawk!

“But why on earth should he play a trick like that on Professor Derrick, Chase?”

“Pure animal spirits, probably.  Or he may, as I say, be a minion.”

I was hot all over.

“I shall tell father that,” said Phyllis in her most decided voice, “and see what he says.  I don’t wonder at the man taking to drink after doing such a thing.”

“I—­I think you’re making a mistake,” I said.

“I never make mistakes,” Mr. Chase replied.  “I am called Archibald the All-Right, for I am infallible.  I propose to keep a reflective eye upon the jovial Hawk.”