Chapter Twenty Two.
The Overseer.
The American turned quickly at the officer’s words, and looked at him curiously.
“Met?” he said, without the slightest sign of recognition. “Very like, sirr,” he added, in a peculiar drawl; “where was it?”
“You do not seem to remember,” said the lieutenant. “Let me refresh your memory: a few weeks back, off the coast of Africa.”
The man half-closed his eyes and stared hard at the first lieutenant and then at the two middies in turn.
“Last year, yew mean, squire?” he said. “No: don’t seem to know you again.”
“Then I shall have to refresh your memory a little more. Mr Murray,” continued the officer, “who do you say this man is?”
“The indiarubber planter, sir, who played us that trick.”
The man turned sharply upon the lad.