“We’ve rather bad news for you, Mr. Dodd,” said Fowler.  “Your firm’s gone up.”

“Already!” I exclaimed.

“Well, it was thought rather a wonder Pinkerton held on as long as he did,” was the reply.  “The wreck deal was too big for your credit; you were doing a big business, no doubt, but you were doing it on precious little capital; and when the strain came, you were bound to go.  Pinkerton’s through all right:  seven cents dividend; some remarks made, but nothing to hurt; the press let you down easy—­I guess Jim had relations there.  The only trouble is, that all this Flying Scud affair got in the papers with the rest; everybody’s wide awake in Honolulu, and the sooner we get the stuff in and the dollars out, the better for all concerned.”

“Gentlemen,” said I, “you must excuse me.  My friend, the captain here, will drink a glass of champagne with you to give you patience; but as for myself, I am unfit even for ordinary conversation till I have read these letters.”

They demurred a little:  and indeed the danger of delay seemed obvious; but the sight of my distress, which I was unable entirely to control, appealed strongly to their good-nature; and I was suffered at last to get by myself on deck, where, by the light of a lantern smuggled under shelter of the low rail, I read the following wretched correspondence.

“My dear Loudon,” ran the first, “this will be handed you by your friend Speedy of the Catamount.  His sterling character and loyal devotion to yourself pointed him out as the best man for our purposes in Honolulu—­the parties on the spot being difficult to manipulate.  A man called Billy Fowler (you must have heard of Billy) is the boss; he is in politics some, and squares the officers.  I have hard times before me in the city, but I feel as bright as a dollar and as strong as John L. Sullivan.  What with Mamie here, and my partner speeding over the seas, and the bonanza in the wreck, I feel like I could juggle with the Pyramids of Egypt, same as conjurers do with aluminium balls.  My earnest prayers follow you, Loudon, that you may feel the way I do—­just inspired!  My feet don’t touch the ground; I kind of swim.  Mamie is like Moses and Aaron that held up the other individual’s arms.  She carries me along like a horse and buggy.  I am beating the record.

“Your true partner,

“J.  PINKERTON.”

Number two was in a different style:—­

“My dearest Loudon, how am I to prepare you for this dire intelligence?  O dear me, it will strike you to the earth.  The Fiat has gone forth; our firm went bust at a quarter before twelve.  It was a bill of Bradley’s (for $200) that brought these vast operations to a close, and evolved liabilities of upwards of two hundred and fifty thousand.  O, the shame and pity of it! and you but three weeks gone!  Loudon, don’t blame your partner:  if human hands and brains could have sufficed, I would have held the thing together.  But it just slowly