‘Frankly, I do.’
‘Well, all I’ve got to say, Brodie, is this,’ answered the skipper decisively: ‘you are on the wrong tack.’
‘How do you know I am?’
‘I am sure of it.’
‘Give me your reasons for being sure.’
‘Why, I tell you, man,’ exclaimed the skipper warmly, ‘the nigger is as harmless as a kitten, and no more likely to commit a crime of this kind than a new-born baby.’
‘That is simply your opinion, Captain Jarvis.’
‘It is my opinion, and it’s a common-sense one. You are doing the fellow a wrong. I never saw a native servant so attached to Balfour as Chunda was to his master. I tell you, Brodie, you are on the wrong scent.’
‘All right, we shall see,’ he said carelessly.
‘But in the name of common-sense,’ cried Jarvis, who was argumentatively inclined, ‘if there’s any reason in your suspicions, how on earth do you suppose this nigger chap got rid of Balfour? Where has he stowed him, do you think? Do you suppose he swallowed him?’