"That ain't the idea at all, cap'n," said Harris, entirely out of patience. "Ye've had trouble already, and all over this, and ye'll have more of it, and ye can't avoid it. We got some pretty fancy passengers aboard, and I'll bet my shirt the parson and Mr. Trenhum knows; and what's more, that parson ain't no more a parson than I be—if he's a parson I'm a bishop. Now, them two brought a bad lot aboard with 'em—Petrak, thar in irons, and this Buckrow, and Long Jim."
"It does look queer," admitted Riggs.
"Trego had his suspicions all the time, cap'n. They got him before he could tell ye what he guessed. Trego never liked the both of 'em. When ye come to look this thing over in yer mind, a little at a time, it gits plain to me. Ye see, the parson brought Long Jim and Buckrow; and Tryhum, or whatever his name is, brung Petrak to do his part of the dirty work.
"Now, look what I'm sayin', cap'n. We got short-handed quick thar in Manila, didn't we? I been turnin' that over in my mind, too. Somebody cut the boatswain, didn't they? The police got that Lascar quartermaster who we had for lampman, didn't they? That's two men gone, ain't it?
"Look a here. The police come aboard lookin' for a little red-headed sailor they said done the killin', and I told 'em they was dreamin'; but they said the lampman, who they took for the murder, blamed it on a little red-headed sailor. I just told 'em I guessed the lampman was their man, and they said a parson told 'em he done the killin', but they wanted to find this little red-headed sailor 'cause he had some hand in it, so some witnesses said.
"See what I'm drivin' at? I didn't know about no red-headed man, and I didn't want to. We had to get out of Manila, and I didn't want to be monkeyin' around with no courts nor judges, and I let the police have their own say, and agreed with 'em when I saw a chance to keep clear, and disagreed when I saw it would delay us to get tangled up in the killin' of the bos'n."
"Well, I don't see what all that has got to do with this," said Captain
Riggs.
"Ye don't? Look a here! One of our men cut up; a red-headed little sailor has a hand in it of some sort; a parson tells the police our lampman done it, and thar goes another of our hands. Who do we git in their place? A parson for a passenger and two men of his own he brings aboard. Looks like he made room for 'em, cap'n."
"You've been reading books," said Captain Riggs. "What I need is a mate, not a detective. But go on, Mr. Harris—maybe ye're right—I'm getting old and trustful."
"That ain't my main p'int, either," continued Harris. "What I mean is this—come to think it over, the lampman didn't leave the ship's side until after the Greek was cut up ashore. It was the parson who put the police on to the lampman."