Altogether he gave me the impression of a respectable master
mariner who had fallen into years and poverty.
"What is it, my man?" I asked.
He looked about him in the slow methodical fashion of old age.
"Is Mr. Sherlock Holmes here?" said he.
"No; but I am acting for him. You can tell me any message you
have for him."
"It was to him himself I was to tell it," said he.
"But I tell you that I am acting for him. Was it about Mordecai
Smith's boat?"
"Yes. I knows well where it is. An' I knows where the men he is
after are. An' I knows where the treasure is. I knows all about
it."
"Then tell me, and I shall let him know."
"It was to him I was to tell it," he repeated, with the petulant
obstinacy of a very old man.
"Well, you must wait for him."
"No, no; I ain't goin' to lose a whole day to please no one. If
Mr. Holmes ain't here, then Mr. Holmes must find it all out for
himself. I don't care about the look of either of you, and I
won't tell a word."
He shuffled towards the door, but Athelney Jones got in front of
him.
"Wait a bit, my friend," said he. "You have important
information, and you must not walk off. We shall keep you,
whether you like or not, until our friend returns.
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