"What I want to know, sir, is, where is the swab?"
"In London. I'm going up to see him to-morrow."
"This afternoon," put in Sophy sharply. "You are going this afternoon, Alan."
"Certainly, my dear," Alan said promptly; "I'll go this afternoon--if the police don't want me."
"The police!" gasped Joe, shifting nervously from one leg to the other.
"Yes." Alan darted a keen glance at him. "Mr. Phelps has sent for the police to investigate this murder of Dr. Warrender."
"Well, I hope they'll find him, sir," said Joe, recovering his stolidity, "for I make no doubt that the swab as killed the doctor carried off the Cap'n's body."
"So I think, Joe, and I am going to London to find out from Cicero Gramp."
"You'll find he'll tell you that the Quiet Gentleman killed Dr. Warrender," put in Sophy.
The old sailor choked, and looked at her with absolute terror.