“Well, sir—seemed a splash like.”
Toby resisted a desire to stamp his foot and shake his fist.
“Did you hear anything?”
“Wouldn’t ’ear no splash in this sea, sir.”
“No,” said Toby, “quite right; you wouldn’t.” Then, taking breath, he continued more calmly. “There’s nothing more to be done—the boat’s away; this man’s dead; take your time: I want to find out if there’s a man overboard or not. What made you think there was? What made you shout ‘Man overboard’?”
“Well, sir, there was two standin’ there talkin’. I seed ’em on’y a few minutes gone. An’ when the accid’nt ’appened, sir, ’an I looked again, there was on’y one”—he glanced at the body, and finished lamely—“on’y one, as you might say, sir.”
“Then one’s gone, unless he moved away. Did you see who they were?”
“There was Skidd, sir—that’s Skidd, lyin’ there.”
“I know. The other?”