"I fancy," the inspector said confidentially, "that the Chief will start by having you searched."
"What do you expect to find, if it's a fair question?"
The inspector smiled. He had thrust his arm in friendly fashion through his companion's.
"We've an idea," he replied, "that this time we shall find a few of Jerry Sands' diamonds."
Chapter X The End of Jeremiah Sands
Aaron Rodd clasped his arms a little further around the barrel against which he was leaning, trod water with his feet and thought about death. The curtain of a slight mist had fallen around him. There was nothing visible but the cold, grey sea, sometimes high above his head, sometimes like a water-slide tumbling away many feet below him. All around him he could hear the hooting of the steamers, sounding their weird notes of warning from some unseen, unimaginable world. A few feet away, also clinging to a barrel, was a bronzed and hairy man in nautical attire, who was using the most awful language.
"No good wasting your breath," Aaron gasped. "Try another shout."
The man did as he was advised, without eliciting any reply from the other side of the grey walls, whereupon he proceeded once more, in lurid language, to express his opinion of murdering foreigners, and mysterious gents who tempted honest tug-masters into doubtful enterprises. Suddenly he broke off.
"Crikey! 'Ere's something on the top of us!" he exclaimed. "Shout, guv'nor, quick!"