“Then how do you propose to find the criminal who has the mummy?”
“You give me five hundred pounds and see,” said Hervey coolly.
“I haven't got the money.”
“Then I reckon you don't get the corpse. So long,” and the skipper strolled towards the door. Braddock followed him.
“You have a clue?”
“No, I've got nothing; not even that five hundred pounds you make such a fuss over. It's a wasted day with H.H., I surmise. Wait!” He scribbled on a card and flung it across the room. “That's my Pierside address if you should change your blamed mind.”
The Professor picked up the card. “The Sailor's Rest! What, are you stopping there?” Then, when Hervey nodded, he cried violently, “Why, I believe you have a clue, and stop at the hotel to follow it up.”
“Maybe I do and maybe I don't,” retorted the captain, opening the door with a jerk; “anyhow, I don't hunt for that corpse without the dollars.”
When Hiram Hervey departed, the Professor raged up and down the room so violently that Cockatoo was cowed by his anger. Apparently this American skipper knew of something which might lead to the discovery of the assassin and incidentally to the restoration of the green mummy to its rightful owner. But he would not make a move unless he was paid five hundred pounds, and Braddock did not know where to procure that amount. Having long since made himself acquainted with Hope's financial condition, he knew well that there was no chance of getting a second check in that quarter. Of course there was Random, whom he had heard casually had returned from his yachting cruise, and was now back again at the Fort. But Random was in love with Lucy, and would probably only give or lend the money on condition that the Professor