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October 1836 there had been a big sale of provisions and salt to a man by the name of Rowland Hallett. Since then, trade had fallen off so drastically that the store was probably on the verge of collapse, which provided a good reason for Wiki’s guess that Adams had grasped the chance to “sell” the schooner he’d been hired to look after, and pocket the money before handing her back to her rightful owners.
    That left the puzzle of the disappearing goods, however, because there was no record of a recent sale of that magnitude. Was Stackpole right, and Adams had stocked the schooner before absconding with her? Wiki looked about the empty storage space again, noting the marks in the dust where barrels and boxes had recently stood, and said to the clerk, “On the fifteenth, when you came to find Senhor Adams gone, was the store empty like this?”
    The clerk drew himself up. “Of what crime do you accuse Senhor Adams?”
    â€œI’m accusing him of nothing. I asked you a question.”
    â€œBecause of an illness in the family, I was away for a week. On the fifteenth I returned to find Senhor Adams gone and the store empty. Yet still I remained at my post, and did my work.”
    â€œAnd you have no way of telling when the goods were removed?”
    â€œIt is not in the account book, so how can I tell?”
    â€œI see,” said Wiki. He was deep in thought, meditating that the storekeeper would have had to equip the Grim Reaper with more than provisions before setting out for the open sea.
    He said, “Are there seamen for hire in this village?”
    The clerk didn’t answer, looking around evasively instead, and Stackpole said, “What did you ask him?”
    Wiki repeated the question in English, and watched the whaling master’s brows bristle upward as he realized its significance. “I’ve never once had a Río Negro man apply to me for a berth on board my ship, not in all the times I’ve been here. They’re horsemen, not sailors,” he said. “So how did Adams find a crew?”
    â€œWhat about the Indians?”
    â€œThey’re sealers, not seamen, and have to be trained, at that.”
    â€œDeserters? Maybe some men jumped from the Athenian while she was here, and were hanging about the waterfront, looking for another berth.”
    â€œThe Athenian ?” Stackpole shook his head. “She did uncommon well, so why would any of her crew walk away at the end of a profitable voyage? They’ll get a nice packet of money after dropping anchor in New York.”
    â€œThere might have been other ships,” Wiki said, because he had never known a ship without potential deserters in the crew. “There’s a number of men set to jump ship and leave the expedition at the first opportunity,” he added wryly, thinking that if Adams had delayed the theft of the schooner until the fleet arrived, he would have had no trouble filling his berths. Though the morale of the expedition seamen was slowly improving from its parlous state when they had left Norfolk, Virginia, back in August, the unpredictable and ascerbic nature of their commander didn’t help.
    Stackpole said derisively, “Life ain’t all that great in the navy?”
    â€œSeven men in particular would run first chance,” Wiki assured him. “If there was a sealing voyage in the offing, they’d probably kill to join it. But,” he added, “they aren’t navy men.”
    â€œThey’re sealers?” guessed Stackpole, looking very interested.
    â€œA gang of sealers we rescued from their sinking ship at an island off northeast Brazil,” Wiki said, then turned to the other ledger, which looked very different from the first, being tall and narrow.
    To his surprise, it was an apothecary’s account book. He turned the pages curiously, finding that Adams had sold everything from absinthe to zinc, plus patent medicines with