Reflecting still deeper, and always with Nelly's unswerving corroboration, Tom began to urge that Jimmy had been poisoned.
"Yes," said Nelly, quite cheerfully, "some boy bin poison em. What's the matter that boy want poison Jimmy? Jimmy good fella!"
"Who poison that boy?" I asked.
"Some fella alonga mainland. .He no good that fella!"
"He bin sick long time. Poison kill em one time quick!"
Tom dissented. "Some boy make em poison slow. I know that kind."
Then he explained. "Some time 'nother fella tchausey belonga Jimmy. He wan make Jimmy shout. Jimmy no wan shout for that boy. They have little bit row."
"That boy wouldn't poison Jimmy because he no shout," I reasoned.
Everybody liked Jimmy."
"Yes," said Tom. "Sometime he might have row."
With an air of mystery, Tom continued: "When that boy have row, he get bone belonga dead man, scrape that bone alonga old bottle. When get little heap all asame sugar, put into tea. Jimmy drink tea. B'mby get sick—die long time. Bad poison that."