"In here," indicating the baggage-room. "Thanks. Now, if there's
anything I can do to help you in return, let her go."

"Is there a house hereabouts called the top o' the hill?"

"Come over here," said the agent. "See that hill back there, quarter
of a mile above the village; those three lights? Well, that's it.
They usually have a carriage down here when they're expecting any one."

"Who owns it?"

"Old Admiral Killigrew. Didn't you know it?"

"Oh, Admiral Killigrew; yes, of course. I'm not a guest. Just going
up there on business. Worth about ten millions, isn't he?"

"That and more. There's his yacht in the harbor. Oh, he could burn up
the village, pay the insurance, and not even knock down the quality of
his cigars. He's the best old chap out. None of your red-faced,
yo-hoing, growling seadogs; just a kindly, generous old sailor, with
only one bee in his bonnet."

"What sort of bee?"

"Pirates!" in a ghostly whisper.

"Pirates? Oh, say, now!" with a protest.

"Straight as a die. He's got the finest library on piracy in the
world, everything from _The Pirates of Penzance_ to _The Life of