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Ford, Sewell, 1868-1946

"Wilt Thou Torchy"


I've been afraid all along he didn't appreciate me; in fact, ever since
he first showed up at the Corrugated, and I kidded him about his buried
treasure tale, he's looked on me with a cold and suspicious eye.
Course, that's his specialty, workin' up suspicions. He's been at it
right along, ever since the _Agnes_ was tied loose from her pier, and
outside of Auntie and Mr. Ellins, who are backin' this treasure hunt, I
don't think there's a single party aboard that he hasn't given the
sleuthy once-over to.
I understand he was dead set against takin' any outsiders along from
the first, even protestin' against Mrs. Mumford and old Professor
Leonidas Barr. I expect his merry little idea is that they might get
their heads together, steal the map showin' where all that pirate gold
is buried, murder the rest of us, and dig up the loot themselves.
Something like that.
Anyway, Rupert is always snoopin' around, bobbin' out unexpected and
pussy-footin' up behind you when you're talkin' to anyone. I didn't
notice his antics the first day or so, but after that he sort of got on
my nerves--specially after the weather quit actin' up and it come off
warmer. Then folks got thicker on the rear deck. Mrs. Mumford with
her crochet, Auntie with her correspondence pad, the Professor with his
books, and so on, which was why me and Vee took to huntin' for little
nooks where we could have private chats.


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