"I wonder who gives these directory men their
information," Nares reflected. "Nobody can blame Trent
after that. I never got in company with squarer lying;
it reminds a man of a presidential campaign."
"All very well," said I; "that's your Hoyt, and a fine,
tall copy. But what I want to know is, where is
Trent's Hoyt?"
"Took it with him," chuckled Nares; "he had left
everything else, bills and money and all the rest: he
was bound to take something, or it would have aroused
attention on the TEMPEST. 'Happy thought,' says
he, 'let's take Hoyt.'"
"And has it not occurred to you," I went on, "that all
the Hoyts in creation couldn't have misled Trent, since
he had in his hand that red Admiralty book, an official
publication, later in date, and particularly full on
Midway Island?"
"That's a fact!" cried Nares; "and I bet the first Hoyt
he ever saw was out of the mercantile library of San
Francisco. Looks as if he had brought her here on
purpose, don't it? But then that's inconsistent with
the steam-crusher of the sale. That's the trouble with
this brig racket; any one can make half a dozen
theories for sixty or seventy per cent.
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