“The man was studying the faces of the people hereabouts?” suggested Garcia.

“That was just what he was doing, and later on he made inquiries here and there, and as events proved, my wife was the woman who struck his fancy.”

“And did he bring her the child?”

“Hold on! let me tell the story just as the events happened.  I told you it was in the winter when the yacht hove to in the bay; well, one bitter and blustering night about three days after the arrival of the yacht, I was over on the mainland having a carouse, and toward morning took the chances of crossing the bay in a catboat to my home.  How I ever reached here in safety I’ll never tell, but I ran on to the beach all right, and footed to my shanty!  Well, sir, as I neared the house pretty well sobered, the first thing I heard was the wail of an infant; and I tell you I was surprised, and entering the house I saw my wife with a lovely child in her arms, which she was feeding with a spoon.

“‘Hello, Betsy,’ I yelled, ’where did you get that little squealer from?’

“Well, sir, my wife raised her finger to her lips, and warned me to be silent, and in a low tone told me that on the following day she would tell me all about it.  Well. you see I was pretty well fagged out, and I always had an idea that what my wife said and done was right.  So I tumbled into bed without making any further inquiries.

“Well, the next morning my good wife told me as how amidst the storm when it was at its greatest fury, the strange man who had come ashore from the yacht, entered our cabin having a bundle wrapped in his arms, and she told me how surprised she was when he opened his bundle and discovered a beautiful little child about a year old.”

“Renie was only a year old when placed in your charge”

“That’s all, sir.”

“Well, proceed.”

“There ain’t much more to tell; my wife told me that the man, had left the child in her charge, and that we were to be well paid for its keep; and as long as Betsy thought it as all right, I made no objections.”

“Did the man ever come again?”

“No, sir; the day following the bringing of the child ashore the yacht sailed away and never since has her prow plowed the waters of the bay.  Nor has anyone belonging to her ever been seen in these parts.”

“And how long ago did this occur?”

“Nigh onto seventeen years ago, sir.”

“And Renie is about eighteen years old?”

“Thereabouts, sir.”

“It is not likely that she will ever be claimed.”

“Hardly, sir.”

“It is not likely that the box will ever be found.”

“Hardly, sir.”

There was one man, however, who dissented from the latter opinion; the detective in his own mind resolved that he would find that box, if it took him years to trace it; meantime the man Garcia opened his scheme.

“Tom, you must let me have the girl.”