“Yes, sir, that’s right enough. But he were asleep, and it didn’t hurt him till one on ’em stuck a pin in his leg to waken him up.”
“Ah!” I cried. “Who did?”
“Well, sir,” said Tom Jecks. “Now you do puzzle me above a bit. It was one o’ the lads, because the pin must have gone into his leg, for he squeaked out and then run up the ladder with the tin-pot banging about right and left, but who it was stuck that pin in, it were so dark that I couldn’t say.”
“You mean that you won’t say, Tom?”
“Well, sir, you’re orficer, and I’m on’y AB, and I shan’t contradict you; have it that way if you like.”
“I shall say no more, but we’ll see what Mr Reardon says when he hears about it.”
“Why, Mr Herrick, sir, yo’ wouldn’t go and tell upon the poor lads, would you? It were on’y a bit of a game, were it, Mr Ching?”
“No, only bit game,” said the Chinaman.
“There, you hear, sir. There wasn’t no bones broke.”
“Hold your tongue, sir.”