“And what?”
“Why, ‘palm’ Colonel Blood and myself, that’s all. The affidavits are not made out yet. I have only taken you on suspicion, you know.”
“I understand.”
“But then the suspicion is very strong, you know—very, very strong indeed; it almost amounts to a dead certainty, since we’ve got the identical suit of clothes ‘a certain party’ exchanged, on the night of the murder, with young Bob Bertram.”
Captain Jack smiled as he said this.
Phillip bit his lip.
“How did you procure the clothes?”
“Ned Warbeck gave the suit to me this very morning, for Bob had kept them by him, and young Warbeck says he could swear they belong to——”
“D—n Ned Warbeck!” said Phillip Redgill, in a terrible rage; “D—n him! he is always crossing my path. I wish he were dead; yes, buried at the bottom of the ocean he loves so much!”
“Aye, but there’s no killing a lad like him,” said Captain Jack; “he’s got more lives than a cat, and as to drowning, it’s out of the question, for he swims like a duck and can float like a cork.”