“I have not,” replied the superintendent sharply. “Let me see.”
“But you haven’t looked in the water-cask,” said Anson mockingly; “turn the water out on to the wagon sheet. It won’t stay there, of course; but we can easily get some more. Do you think diamonds would melt in water?”
“Try one and see,” cried the superintendent angrily, as he turned away, to stand looking on while every article that could by any possibility have been made to act as a vehicle to hide smuggled diamonds had been examined and replaced.
“We’ve been sold, eh?” said the sergeant, looking up in his superintendent’s eyes at last.
“It seems like it,” was the reply. “There’s nothing here.”
Just then Anson, who had been lighting a fresh cigar, came up to him smilingly.
“Haven’t done, have you?” he said.
“Yes: quite,” was the gruff reply.
“Oh, I am sorry you haven’t had better luck,” said Anson, in a mock sympathetic tone. “It must be terribly disappointing, after expecting to make a big capture.”
“Very,” said the superintendent, looking the speaker searchingly in the eyes.