"Playboy!" I repeated incredulously, "what do you mean?"
"Eugene cot him. He's above in Eugene's room now," said the boy, his face becoming suddenly scarlet.
"Do you mean that he wasn't killed?" I demanded, instantly allocating in my own mind half a sovereign to Eugene.
"He wasn't in the island at all," faltered Master Eddy, "Eugene cot him below on the cliffs when the hounds went down in it at the first go off, and he hid him back in the house here."
The allotment of the half-sovereign was abruptly cancelled.
I swallowed my emotions with some difficulty.
"Well," I said, after an awkward pause, "I'm very much obliged to you for telling me. I'll see your father about it in the morning."
Master Eddy did not accept this as a dismissal. He remained motionless, except for his eyes that sought refuge anywhere but on my face.
There was a silence for some moments; he was almost inaudible as he said:
"It would be better for ye to take him now, and to give him to Slipper. I'd be killed if they knew I let on he was here." Then, as an afterthought, "Eugene's gone to the wake."