“Ah, you ought to be on this job, Mr Anson,” said the chief searcher sarcastically. “You’d be invaluable here.”
Anson laughed good-humouredly.
“You’re bantering,” he said; “I know. But I should like it, and I fancy I could find the diamonds quickly enough if a man had hidden any.”
“Find them then now,” said the man who had spoken. “Come on.”
There was a general laugh here, in which Anson joined.
“Nay,” he said good-humouredly; “get another subject who has some hidden. That chap has none, unless he has swallowed some.”
“What would you do then, squire?” said the man. “Shoot him, and make a post-mortem exam?”
“Ugh! horrid!” cried Anson, with a look of the most intense disgust. “But I say, I mean it. Fetch another chap, and let me examine him. I should like to, really.”
“Why don’t you search this one?” said Ingleborough contemptuously, and West laughed.
Anson winced and turned upon them half-angrily. But he changed his manner before he had finished speaking, and his face broke up into a broad smile.