have it; must we? How? From this Clissold's wanderings, and from what
you say, it ain't hard to make out that there was a neat forgery of your
writing committed by the too smart rowdy that was grease and ashes when I
made his acquaintance, and a substitution of a forged leaf in your book
for a real and torn leaf torn out. Now was that real and true leaf then
and there destroyed? No,--for says he, in his drunken way, he slipped it
into a crack in his own desk, because you came into the office before
there was time to burn it, and could never get back to it arterwards.
Wait a bit. Where is that desk now? Do you consider it likely to be in
America Square, London City?"

Tregarthen shook his head.

"The house has not, for years, transacted business in that place. I have
heard of it, and read of it, as removed, enlarged, every way altered.
Things alter so fast in these times."

"You think so," returned the captain, with compassion; "but you should
come over and see _me_ afore you talk about _that_. Wa'al, now. This
desk, this paper,--this paper, this desk," said the captain, ruminating
and walking about, and looking, in his uneasy abstraction, into Mr.
Pettifer's hat on a table, among other things. "This desk, this
paper,--this paper, this desk," the captain continued, musing and roaming
about the room, "I'd give--"

However, he gave nothing, but took up his steward's hat instead, and
stood looking into it, as if he had just come into church. After that he
roamed again, and again said, "This desk, belonging to this house of
Dringworth Brothers, America Square, London City--"