“Certainly not,” replied the lieutenant, coolly. “I only said what I thought.”
“But you don’t think such a thing as that possible, do you?”
“Don’t know. Can’t say. It’s rather awkward out here, though, to be in a place where you can’t call in the police if you want them.”
“Dear me! Bless my soul!” ejaculated the doctor, taking his cigar in his hand, and looking at the burning end. “But, oh, no! it’s all nonsense. He wouldn’t dare to do such a thing.”
“No,” drawled Chumbley; “I don’t suppose he would.”
“Then why the dickens did you put forth such an idea?” cried the doctor, angrily. “Bah! that’s the worst cigar I ever smoked.”
He threw it over the side, and it gave an angry hiss as it fell into the water.
“Try another, doctor,” said Chumbley, offering his case. “It’s of no use to make yourself miserable about it if it is as I say.”
“But the ladies!” cried the doctor. “My poor little wife,” he added, softly.
“Well, they would be no better off if we make ourselves wretched,” said Chumbley, coolly.